


Missed Connections

by kuchiki977



Category: Naruto
Genre: Age Difference, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Background Relationships, Bullying, Drama, Eventual Smut, F/M, Female Uzumaki Naruto, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, POV Alternating, Pining, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Touch-Starved, Unrequited Love, almost of age sex, and fails, as I am known for, because Madara tries to be good, hurt comfort, like just a few months shy, mostly Madara POV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:15:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25790443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuchiki977/pseuds/kuchiki977
Summary: TV and movies would lead you to believe that everything in life falls into place the second you lock eyes with your soulmate. However, that is not the case for Madara and Naruto. In fact, the road to their encounter is just as bumpy as the road after.
Relationships: Akimichi Chouji/Karui, Inuzuka Kiba/Tamaki, Namikaze Minato/Uzumaki Kushina, Nara Shikamaru/Temari, Nohara Rin/Uchiha Obito, Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Madara, Senju Hashirama/Uzumaki Mito, Uchiha Madara/Uzumaki Naruko, Uchiha Madara/Uzumaki Naruto, Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto
Comments: 42
Kudos: 122





	1. Spot

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, a one-shot grew out of control. Also, this is set in a modern AU because juggling soulmates, time-travel, and ninja politics was way too tall of an order.
> 
> seiza: the infamous formal kneeling position

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They keep barely missing the other until they don't.

Everyone’s soulmark is different. Most are present at birth. Some people have their soulmate’s name etched into their skin. Others have a red string connecting them to each other. Naruto’s soulmark is a bit more outside the box: an imaginary friend.

* * *

For some reason, Mom flips when she hears that Naruto’s imaginary friend is an old man. She’s so shocked that she doesn’t even catch Dad when he faints. Spot just tells her to stop calling him old. Well, actually, he says _Shut it, pipsqueak._

Spot is always rude like that. He doesn’t even like the name she gave him.

 _Who would? It’s a name for a_ **_dog_** _._

Well, he didn’t like “Mr. Hedgehog” or “Mr. Porcupine,” so Naruto had to improvise. What kind of person forgets their own name, anyway?

_Ah, yes. This is all my fault._

Naruto doesn’t like his tone and sticks her tongue out at him. Spot scoffs from the adjacent chair. 

Mom freaks out and tries to shake Dad’s head off while Naruto eats all of the marshmallows out of her cereal. By the time she finishes slurping up the non-marshmallow bits and milk, Mom has calmed down enough to stop shouting. Dad is still face-down on the floor where Mom left him, though. He’s probably fine.

Mom casually steps over him. Naruto jolts when their gazes meet, but Mom just smiles. It’s not her happy smile. She uses her angry, high-pitched voice. “Naruto, honey?”

“Y-yeah?”

“Where have you seen this old man? At school? The park? In the neighborhood, maybe?”

Somehow, Spot isn’t scared at all. He even rolls his eyes! Naruto hesitantly answers, “All those places. Spot is always with me. He’s here right now.” 

_Unfortunately._

The last thing Naruto needs is Mom to misunderstand who she’s telling to shut up, so she lets Spot’s sass go without comment. 

Mom slouches in relief. “He’s really imaginary?”

Does it matter that much? “Yup.”

A slight pause. Her tone is almost hopeful. “No new birthmarks? A red string around your pinky?”

“Nuh-uh.” The answer turns Mom’s slouch into a downtrodden wilt. Worried that she accidentally made Mom sad, Naruto asks, “Is that bad?”

Mom shakes her head as she pulls out the chair across from Spot at the kitchen table. Unknown to her, Spot’s eyes follow her movements. It’s kinda scary. 

Mom takes a deep breath. First, she reassures,“No, not at all.” A bit more reluctantly, “Honey, I think that ‘Spot’ is your soulmate.”

“Really?!” Naruto can’t keep the excitement out of her voice, but Spot doesn’t seem surprised at all. Did he already know? Why didn’t he tell her?! She asks the question that has been bothering her for a while, “Why is he old, though?”

Mom mumbles under her breath, but Naruto catches the words, “That’s what I’d like to know.” Mom’s face smoothes out into a less menacing smile. “How old does he look?”

“Uhhhh...” Naruto looks to Spot for an answer, but he just unhelpfully stares right back. Fine, be that way. Pushing away from the table, she offers, “I’ll draw a picture of him for ya!” 

By the time she unearths the crayon box in her room and runs back to the kitchen, Dad is awake again. Her parents are busy arguing in hushed tones, so they don’t notice her return. Mom shrieks a word Naruto has never heard before. Curious, she asks about it, “What’s a pedo- _file_?”

Mom and Dad freeze. They both flounder for an answer before Mom offers to get a piece of paper for Naruto and dashes away. Dad sends a betrayed look in her direction, but pats the chair Naruto was previously sitting in with a sigh. She puts her crayons on the table and climbs into the chair as Dad takes a seat across from her. Mom must have told him that all the other seats are taken.

At her expectant look, Dad explains, “A _pedophile_ is a bad person.” 

She needs more of an answer than that. “What makes them bad?”

“They’re adults that touch children in bad places,” he elaborates. That doesn’t sound good. Before Naruto can ask more about it, Mom loudly announces her return. She sits back down and places a piece of paper in front of Naruto. 

Several minutes are spent trying to locate the remnants of the black crayon. Naruto accidentally snapped it in half when she pressed into the paper with all her might while coloring a panther in art class. What else was she supposed to do? Let stupid Sasuke get away with saying “only sick panthers have coats that shabby?” 

Never.

He added insult to injury with a snort when her crayon broke. Naruto was about to attack him when Spot stopped her. Spot smirked as he told her to tell Sasuke that his ‘dragon’ looked more like a worm. 

Naruto didn’t think Sasuke would care what she had to say, but she did as Spot said. The aghast look on Sasuke’s face had been priceless. It didn’t even bother her when almost all of the other girls in class jumped to Sasuke’s defense.

As fond as the memory is, searching for the black crayon’s remains wears on her patience. Why are there so many dark colors? Do we really need so many shades of blue and purple? Picking up indigo for the fifth time nearly has her dumping the entire box onto the table. 

Naruto levels a glare at Spot. Why couldn’t he have orange hair? It’s a perfectly good color.

He props an arm on the table and rests his non-weight on it. _I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: you have horrible taste. Anyway, let’s speed this along, shall we? The front half of the black crayon is wedged into the lower left corner of the box._

Oh. She scrapes at it with her finger and it easily pops free. Just to be sure, she holds the crayon up to Spot’s hair. Yep, perfect match. Naruto nods to herself as Spot raises an eyebrow. Unknown to her, her parents share a look.

Completely occupied with her work, she doesn’t notice how quiet the kitchen is. Her parents’ reactions to the finished masterpiece are disappointing. Neither of their faces settle on one expression for long; shock, confusion, fear. Finally, Dad asks, “Is...is Spot a Christmas tree?”

How could he say that? Maybe he’s blind. Maybe he’s as old as Spot. 

_Watch it._

Ignoring Spot, Naruto answers her father’s question, “No, he’s a person.” She gestures to the drawing of his face. Poking the drawing in its scribbled black eye, she exclaims, “See? These are his eyes!” 

Admittedly, she isn’t too good at coloring inside the lines yet, but it’s undeniably a picture of a person. If anything, Spot’s wild, spiky hair is to blame. His dark clothes don't help matters either. Thanks to him, she doesn’t have a black crayon anymore.

Naruto catches the uneasy look her parents share this time. She asks, “What’s that look for?”

Instead of answering her question, Dad asks a question of his own, “Is Spot scary?”

Naruto looks at Spot. He looks right back. Spot looks scary in the dark sometimes, but that’s because he blends in. Most of the time, he’s just there, saying unhelpful things. She settles on, “No. He’s usually rude, but not scary.” As an afterthought, she tacks on, “He scared me when he appeared in my room, though.” 

Dad blanches, Mom’s eyes widen, and Spot smacks his hand against his forehead. For a long time, no one moves. The silence stretches. 

Naruto loses interest and looks out the window. Kiba and Shikamaru happen to be passing by. Immediately straightening from the slouch she settled into, Naruto asks, “Can I go outside?”

Mom shakily gives her permission and Naruto rushes to the door. All thoughts about the previous conversation are pushed aside at the prospect of playing outside. Adults worry too much, anyway.

~xXx~

Mikoto knows something is wrong the second she enters the restaurant without incident. No stage whispers or exuberant waves direct her to the table Kushina reserved for their lunch date. 

How odd. They ate at Mikoto’s favorite restaurant last time, so it was Kushina’s turn to pick. 

Mikoto steps outside and gives the sign a good look. No, this is definitely Kushina’s favorite restaurant. She steps back inside. A quick check of the calendar app confirms that she arrived at the correct time. At a loss, Mikoto calls Kushina. 

A phone rings inside the restaurant. She follows the sound to a booth in the back. A head of disheveled red hair is face-down on the table. Kushina hardly ever slumps. Mikoto hangs up the phone and the ringing stops. That settles it. Gently, she calls out, “Kushina?”

Hair falls into Kushina’s face and sticks to the tear tracks on her cheeks as she whips her head up. She wails, “Mikotooooo!”

Their lunch dates usually start off with an energetic greeting and a hug that’s just a hair too tight. To be honest, Mikoto is a bit miffed when they break routine. 

Kushina was bragging about how lovey-dovey she and Minato were just the other day, so it can’t be marital problems. Naruto is doing fine as far as she knows. Did a close relative die? A parent, perhaps? 

Mikoto takes the seat opposite Kushina. She reaches a hand out to tuck Kushina’s hair back into some semblance of order. With that done, Mikoto hands her the pack of tissues in her purse. Once Kushina wipes the tears off her face, Mikoto answers, “Yes? What’s the matter?”

Kushina’s face contorts into a profound grimace. Gravely, she states, “I have terrible news: Sasuke isn’t Naruto’s soulmate.”

Mikoto and Kushina had fantasized about becoming family through their children’s marriage, so the news is certainly disappointing. Mikoto doesn’t actively try to push Naruto and Sasuke together like Kushina does, but she would have been happy if they did end up being soulmates. It’s unfortunate that things didn’t turn out that way, but a child finding their soulmate so early in life is generally a happy occasion. Mikoto tentatively asks, “Who is Naruto’s soulmate, then?” 

Kushina’s lower lip trembles before she lets out another wail, “A dirty, old maaaaaaaan!”

Ah, that is something to cry over. How unusual. Mikoto has never heard of soulmates having significant age gaps. She shudders to think of how Naruto encountered him. 

This conversation would be happening during a jail’s visiting hours if anything untoward happened to Naruto, so it can’t have been too bad. However, there is a chance that this lunch date will end with the disposal of incriminating evidence. Fully aware that the answer could make her an accessory to a gruesome murder, Mikoto boldly asks, “Have you met him?”

“No...Minato and I...we…” She takes a deep breath before rushing through the confession, “We think he’s her imaginary friend!”

Mikoto must have misheard. “Pardon?”

Kushina props an arm on the table and rests her forehead on her fist. She heaves a sigh before explaining, “Remember how Naruto wasn’t born with a soulmark?” At Mikoto’s nod, Kushina continues, “Well, we thought she might have a thread of fate, so we didn’t worry about it at first. 

“We went to a specialist when she never tried to follow an invisible trail after learning to walk. He assured us that some soulmarks don’t appear until the child develops an awareness of their surroundings. We followed his advice to wait, but we were concerned after Naruto’s sixth birthday came and went without a word to us about a red string around her finger. 

“Just when we were considering taking her back to the specialist, we noticed her talking to herself; as if in a conversation with someone. Kids have imaginary friends all the time, so we didn’t think it was related until she told us that her imaginary friend was an ‘old man.’

“Initially, we thought she was being targeted by a pedophile— _honestly, that’s still a possibility_ —but she told us that he’s always with her. She even said he was in the kitchen with us when we asked about him.” Nearing the end of her explanation, Kushina sighs. “If she’s seeing him at the age he’ll be when they meet, I can only hope that they don’t meet until she’s an adult. Sad as that may be.”

Mikoto takes a moment to digest the information. She knew Naruto was a late bloomer, but this...

Most people discover their soulmate in middle school, Mikoto included. Some rare stragglers meet in their first year of high school at the latest. She can only imagine how socially alienating it will be for Naruto. Life’s milestones, intended to be shared with a soulmate, will only serve as bitter reminders of the hand she has been dealt.

Friendship will be as comforting as a bandaid on a gaping wound, but some support is better than none. Mikoto assures, “I’ll encourage Sasuke to reach out to her. They may not get along, but some familiarity might make school bearable.”

Kushina’s grateful smile is soft. “Thank you, Mikoto.” Back to her usual self, she lets out a pleased snicker. “If Sasuke is half as good a friend as you are, I have nothing to worry about!”

Mikoto preens under Kushina’s praise. Grateful for the lighter atmosphere, she playfully says, “I should hope he’s twice as good. I raised him, after all.”

~xXx~

“Why would I come all the way back to town for Sasuke’s birthday party? He barely knows me.” Madara’s tone is flippant. Based on the distant sound of keyboard keys clicking, he’s working during his supposed “break.”

Izuna is annoyed, but he refrains from saying that the only reason the two aren’t close is because Madara left the compound. Instead, he says, “He can get to know you.”

“Isn’t he turning four? There’s no way he would remember me.”

“More like seven,” Izuna corrects.

“Already?” Madara’s tone belies his disinterest.

Changing strategies, Izuna wheedles, “We miss you. You barely ever come home.” 

Madara pauses for just a moment too long before replying, “I always come back for your birthday, don’t I?” 

An accusatory silence follows. 

Madara sighs. “The company needs me. If I took time off now, I would come back to a scrap heap and a pile of dead interns.”

Izuna isn’t going to let him get away with that excuse again. “Nii-san.”

“I really can’t,” he replies. Izuna hears a crash and a quiet “Oops” in the background. Madara’s voice draws away as he turns from the phone to yell, “Tobi, that better not have been something important!”

Izuna barely holds back a snort when Madara sighs into the receiver like an overworked single-mother. It’s obvious that Madara has no intention of returning to Konoha anytime soon, but Izuna tries again anyway. “Nii-san, I know your work is important to you, but—”

“Listen, Izuna, I’m sorry but I have to go. I’ll call you back when I get home.”

Madara doesn’t call back that night or for several days. Izuna knows Madara is busy with the Akatsuki group, but he’s going to work himself into an early grave at the rate he’s going. Worried, Izuna calls him on the morning of the party. 

If Madara gets on a train within the hour, he can still make it in time. Izuna’s third attempt to reach him finally connects. He hears some rustling before his brother’s slurred voice asks, “Izuna? What day is it?”

~xXx~

Why did they have to come to the party early? They were guests, weren’t they? Sasuke doesn’t even want her here. He probably thinks she’ll ruin his birthday party. Mom refused to be reasoned with, though, so here Naruto is; slouching in a bright orange chair.

_I thought you liked orange?_

Spot’s teasing is not appreciated. Naruto takes a quick look around to make sure no one has come back. 

The adults left after they finished decorating. Mom’s laughter rings out from somewhere close to the front of the house. As far as Naruto knows, Sasuke is still hovering around Itachi and Shisui as they play video games in the living room. Arguing that they only have three controllers and her presence would be ‘distracting,’ Sasuke left her to sit amongst the empty tables and chairs in the garden on the side of the house. 

No one is around to look at her funny for talking to Spot. She asks, “Aren’tcha tired?” 

Naruto pats the fluorescent pink chair next to her in invitation, but Spot gives it a sneer. His tone is accusatory. _You just want to see me sit on that travesty._

He’s not wrong. Naruto is honestly surprised Sasuke’s family owns bright colored furniture. Everything else they own is blue or black. 

A wicked smile stretches across her face when an idea comes to mind. Maybe if she imagines Spot sitting there, he’ll have to?

_Don’t you dare._

Her legs don’t touch the ground as she sits in the children’s party chair. Spot would probably end up with his knees against his chest—

_Stop._

His hair would probably sweep the ground—

_Enough._

A big ol’ frown on his face—

_NARUTO._

She snickers at his desperate roar. It used to scare her when he yelled. His deep voice echoing inside her head was doubly scary. Naruto got used to it once she noticed that he was pretty easy to tease. After that, Spot raising his voice became a daily occurrence.

He harrumphs. _Cheeky brat._

The rattle of the front door sliding open announces another guest’s arrival. Naruto eagerly awaits them. The sooner they arrive, the sooner the party can start. Once it starts, she can eat while she waits for it to end. Mom will probably insist they stay and help clean up, but Naruto is going to get her fill of cake before then. Maybe she’ll eat Sasuke’s portion. It’s not like he likes sweets anyway.

From her spot at the kids’ table, she can see the front gate if she leans to the right. Naruto strains her neck to see around the balloons, but two figures come into view. One of them looks like an older Sasuke. The shorter one has his back to her. 

Naruto dares to hope. Light reflects off of his signature goggles as he props them on top of his head. She shouts, “OBITO!”

Most members of Sasuke’s huge family don’t smile and aren’t fun to talk to. Obito is one of the few that are always nice. Naruto has always liked him for that.

In her haste to get to him, she falls out of her chair. The pink dress Mom made her put on gets a grass stain but she couldn’t care less. Naruto catches the tail end of Older Sasuke’s sentence as she crashes into the back of Obito’s knees. “—he’s really sorry that he couldn’t take time off work to come.”

From underneath the heap she and Obito collapsed into, Naruto hears Sasuke’s mom blithely reply, “Oh, it’s quite all right. I can’t imagine how much work it is to build a humble start-up into a corporation—”

Losing interest in the conversation, Naruto pulls herself out from under Obito’s back. He doesn’t move. She pokes his cheek. No reaction. She licks a finger and sticks it in his ear. 

Obito springs away from her with a yelp. “A wet-willy?! Who taught you how to do that?!”

Naruto smirks. “You did.”

_What an idiot._

She ignores Spot’s mean comment as Obito stands and dusts himself off. He says, “Remind me to stop teaching you gross things.” 

“No promises,” she replies as she grabs his hand. Dragging him away from the boring conversation the adults are having, she tells him, “You’re late, ya know!”

Obito grins as he apologizes, “Sorry, sorry! I would have come running if I knew you were waiting for me. Have I mentioned that your dress looks nice? Even with that huge grass stain.”

Naruto’s sunny smile drops into a grimace as she grumbles, “Mom made me wear it.”

Obito nods sagely, but his tone is flippant. “Gotcha. It’s ugly crap.” 

Naruto laughs.

The other guests trickle in and the party starts soon after. None of her classmates want to sit next to her, but Obito asks to sit in the fluorescent pink chair. His legs don’t fit underneath the table and he has to hold his plate up to his face as he eats. Obito looks absolutely ridiculous, but Naruto appreciates the company. He even takes the blame for her when Mom notices the state of her dress.

Sasuke sends her annoyed looks throughout the party, but time flies with Obito. It would be nice if Obito was in her class instead of Sasuke. He doesn’t say mean things or think she’s weird. 

~xXx~

_Your aim is improving._

Normally, Spot’s praise is a treasure to be coveted. Now, however, he’s just saying it to make her feel better. 

Only three hours in and she has already launched all of the rubber bands in the room at the target she drew on a paper and taped to the wall. The satisfaction of hitting dead-center lessened with each success. Fourteen bullseyes out of fifty rubber bands isn’t something to brag about, but Naruto isn’t interested in picking them up to improve her score. 

All she wants to do is slump against the filing cabinet. It would be nice if she could fall asleep. Maybe the boredom is sapping her energy? Maybe she’s dying?

Spot sounds amused. _Unlikely._

Dad chuckles when Naruto whines. 

It would have been better to stay home with Mom. Once Naruto cleaned her room and helped with the chores, she could have at least gone outside. Heck, fourth grade bores the crap out of her most days, but it’s better than sitting in Dad’s office with nothing to do. If she had known Bring Your Kid to Work Day was this uneventful, she never would have agreed to it. 

Dad makes his work sound really interesting and fun, but all she has seen him do is type at the computer and make phone calls. The most interesting part of the day is when he gives her some money to buy something from the vending machine in the break room. 

Naruto enjoys getting to stretch her legs and explore. Admittedly, there isn’t much _to_ see, but a change of scenery is more than welcome after staring at the wall of Dad’s office. All of the people outside Dad’s office quietly type away at their computers, but she has some fun jumping out from behind the cubicles to spook them. 

The only other kid that got fooled into coming had the foresight to bring entertainment. Naruto finds him wedged into a corner outside some ‘Rasa’ guy’s office. She tries to strike up conversation, but he has very little interest in anything other than his game. “What’s your name?”

Silence.

“What game are you playing?”

The bright screen casts an eerie glow on his face in the shadow of a nearby filing cabinet. He stares at his game so intensely that the screen reflects in his eyes. The periodic leap his character makes over obstacles is hypnotic. 

Annoyed, Naruto informs, “I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me, ya know!”

His character trips and falls to his death. A “Game Over” screen appears. Finally, he meets her gaze. The thick, black rims around his eyes remind her of a raccoon as he stares into her soul. Bluntly, he says, “Go away.”

_Just go to the break room already._

Naruto puffs her cheeks out and crosses her arms. “Fine!”

Unfortunately, the vending machine options aren’t worth the trip. No ice cream or candy, just sandwiches and onigiri. They don’t even have cup ramen! 

_What a dump._

Spot’s tone is dry, but she heartily agrees with his assessment, “Right?!”

Utterly crestfallen, she returns to Dad’s office. The only good news is that they get to leave after lunch because the guy they were supposed to meet with cancelled.

~xXx~

Someone’s head is going to roll when he gets back to the office.

Madara fumes as he sits on the bench at Konoha’s only train station. A strong gust of wind blows his fringe into his eyes as the Shinkansen zooms by without stopping. 

The next train that would actually stop at this crude slab of concrete masquerading as a platform wasn’t due for another hour. He curses this backwater town and the people living in it. A teleconference is just as effective as meeting in person; there is no need for him to be here.

_I like being home, though._

Madara snorts. 

The intern beside him starts. Fearfully, he asks, “Is something wrong, sir?” 

Madara growls, “What do you think?”

_Lighten up. It’s not his fault that the presentation file was corrupted, ya know._

Madara stands and approaches the nearest vending machine. He would rather have a stiff drink, but he doesn’t feel like searching for another machine. Caffeine will have to do. After inserting a couple coins into the slot, he viciously stabs the button for black coffee.

_You know you like milk tea better._

The scalding coffee doesn’t burn the same way alcohol does, but drinking it gives him something to do; something to focus on.

_You never wanna talk to me anymore._

The sadness in her voice angers him. Madara walks right through her. He doesn’t have the time or patience to entertain mirages. 

She points toward the dinky buildings peeking out from between the trees in the distance. _I’m out there, ya know._

Where has he heard that one before?

~xXx~

Why is “female” synonymous with “lifelong discomfort?” Whoever designed the female reproductive system deserves to be curb-stomped.

_Quit overreacting._

Naruto screeches, “What would you know about period cramps?!”

Spot blanches. Weirdly enough, he looks a bit embarrassed. Is he uncomfortable? At any other time, she might tease him about it. Right now, though? Naruto just wants him to shut up and let her sleep the pain away. 

Spot huffs, but he doesn’t say anything more. Naruto curls around the heating pad and laments eating the last of her halloween candy already. Where is Dad? She sent him out to get more chocolate an hour ago.

Outside the room, she hears her mom talking on the phone, “I’m so sorry to cancel at the last minute! We were all looking forward to the trip. I’ve never seen Naruto so excited to spend time with Sasuke!”

Naruto huffs in annoyance. Why was she always phrasing it like that? Naruto had been excited to utterly destroy Sasuke, not spend time with him. 

All those weeks spent training at the city pool, wasted. She was supposed to be exposing Sasuke for the chump that he is by swimming laps around him at his family’s private beach, not laying down to die.

A snort sounds from close to her bedside. Despite giving him express permission to sit on her bed, Spot always sits on the floor. Usually, this annoys her, but his position puts his head within reach. 

It’s a waste of energy and Naruto has to let go of the heating pad to do it, but she leans over to swat his head. Naturally, her hand passes through him and hits the nightstand. Her hand stings, but she has made her point.

~xXx~

Madara has never much cared for beaches. Sand gets everywhere. The ocean is a glorified toilet bowl for every aquatic organism in it. He sunburns easily.

Come to think of it, why do the fair-skinned Uchiha own a beach, anyway? Better yet, why is the annual clan-wide trip just a week-long stay at a beach? They usually yuck it up in a posh foreign country, not slum like common folk. 

_Slum?! Have you seen those beach houses?_

How long have they even owned this plot of refined dirt? This waste of money isn’t even that far from Konoha. It’s probably some kind of power move against the locals.

_Must be tiring being so paranoid all the time._

Madara regrets ever letting that blasted offhand comment about work calming down slip while on the phone with Izuna. He can respect that Izuna saw an opportunity and took advantage of it, but haranguing him into attending a family gathering is taking it too far. 

Arguing that Madara doesn’t spend enough time with the family, Izuna confiscated his laptop and phone. Madara tried to defend himself, but Izuna wouldn’t hear of it. Some light guilt-tripping about missing the birth of his (thus far) only nephew got Madara out of the blessed airconditioned room and into the direct path of the blazing hot sun. 

The second he settles on a towel spread over the sand, the extended family that he wishes would just die already shamble over to him on their frail, arthritic legs. Getting reacquainted with the older generation mainly amounts to receiving thinly veiled criticism about his lack of a soulmate and begrudging congratulations on his success in business. It grates on Madara when they treat his success as theirs and imply that his value is derived from his accomplishments. The same geezer that suggested his parents disown him dares to say that Madara has “finally earned the right to call himself an Uchiha.”

_Don’t let them bother you. You’re amazing and I’m very proud of you._

He blames the pinched expression on his face on the sun when they ask. It’s not entirely a lie. His dark hair soaks up sunlight like a sponge. For the barest second, he considers chopping his long mane. The sweat building on his neck and back is a mild annoyance, but his patience is threadbare at the moment. 

Intending to sleep off the irritation, Madara sets up an umbrella for some shade. He carefully adjusts it so none of his sensitive skin is exposed to the sun. Satisfied, he reclines on his towel and slowly drifts off to sleep. 

Before slipping into a deep sleep, a voice in the back of his head warns, _I wouldn’t sleep here if I were you, ya know._

  
~xXx~

Away from their parents' watchful eyes, the younger generation of Uchiha let loose. Finally able to shed the calm, collected exterior their parentage demands of them, they horse-around like common children. A volleyball match happens to start a bit too close to Madara’s unassuming set up.

Luck is not on Obito’s side when he receives Sasuke’s spike. Rather than continue the volley as intended, it ricochets off of his forearm and toward Madara’s innocent umbrella. All of the players suck in a horrified breath as Madara’s sole source of shade is violently knocked to the ground. They freeze like deer in headlights as they wait for Madara to roar to life.

Nothing happens.

Rather than risk waking the beast with a sigh of relief, everyone other than Obito flees the scene. Panicking, Obito debates whether or not to approach Madara’s towel and fix the umbrella. 

It’s the right thing to do. He would want someone to fix it for him if he was sleeping in the sun. Obito takes a step forward and stops. 

It’s common knowledge that Madara is even grouchier when rudely woken up. If he woke up at the worst possible time and misconstrued Obito’s intentions, it would not end well.

Obito _could_ just leave and pretend he had nothing to do with it. Itachi, Shisui and Sasuke might not snitch. He takes two steps backward before stopping again.

Can he trust them, though? If they do snitch, Obito’s vacation is over. He’ll be forced to spend the remainder of it ducking behind corners and hiding behind his grandma while Madara hunts him down. 

Agonizing minutes pass as Obito alternates between advancing and retreating. Ultimately, he decides to trust his cousins. Family won’t betray him like that, right? Right.

Upon visual confirmation that there aren’t any more possible witnesses, Obito sidles up to Madara’s towel. Forcibly correcting his anxious gait into a casual stroll, he hurriedly scoops the ball up from where it fell. 

His heart nearly bursts when the ball slips out of his hand. It bounces out of his panicked, flailing grasp several times but he manages to catch it frighteningly close to Madara’s face. Holding his breath, Obito slowly backs away from the towel before breaking into a sprint. 

~xXx~

  
  
“Your first mistake was expecting an honor student like Itachi to lie for you.”

Obito agrees, but he refuses to give Madara the satisfaction of voicing it. “I said I was sorry!”

Madara ruthlessly retorts, “Apologies don’t soothe inflammation of the skin, do they?” 

Obito notes that the entire right side of Madara’s body is covered in aloe. He must have turned onto his side while the sun cooked him. Somehow sensing Obito’s impudent thoughts, Madara clears his throat and looks between his cup and Obito.

Groaning, Obito grabs the pitcher. He notes that there’s more condensation than there was when Madara first stormed into the common room of the main beach house. Had any of the other people in the room been kind enough to warn Obito before fleeing, he might not have become Madara’s new manservant. 

Rin had just texted him back, so Obito wasn’t paying attention when a menacing aura came up behind him. Madara promptly snatched his phone and has been holding it hostage for the past hour. 

Obito isn’t sure how long his reluctant servitude will go on, but he follows Madara’s orders in the hope that he’ll get to reply to Rin’s text sometime this week. He’s not going to kid himself into thinking Madara will get over this slight in a reasonable amount of time. 

Until then, Madara expects stellar service from him. Obito sighs, “There’s no more ice.”

With the air of a feudal lord directing a lowly serf, Madara simply orders, “Go get some, then.” 

Obito groans as he shakily stands from the seiza position he was forced to sit in. Feeling extra petty, Madara commands, “Get my laptop, phone, and a newspaper while you’re at it.”

Okay, there’s petty and then there’s unreasonable. Obito argues, “You can read the newspaper on both of those devices, though?”

“And yet I want all three.” The finality of his tone discourages further opposition. Obito’s continuous groan fades into the distance as he exits the room and wanders down the hall to do Madara’s bidding.

_Aren’tcha being too mean? You shouldn’t’ve slept on the beach in the first place, ya know._

Madara chances a glance at her. Whiskers lay belly-up on the tatami to his right. She’s still fairly translucent, but she appears far more solid than she does in Ame.

The sun must have boiled his brain, because he responds before he can think better of it, “You could have warned me.”

Her jaw drops into a gape. She hastily sits up from her supine position and tries to reign in her obvious excitement. It seems even an argument is welcome if it means he’ll talk to her. _I did try to warn you, but you didn’t listen!_

Petulantly, he retorts, “You could have tried harder.”

She fires back. _‘Try harder?!’ All I ever do is try!_

“Much to my annoyance.”

_Maybe if you listened to me, I wouldn’t have to constantly repeat myself!_

Perhaps it’s the discomfort of his skin peeling or the decades of bitterness, but Madara takes the cheap shot, “Maybe if your words meant something, I would listen.”

Madara instantly regrets the harsh words, but he’s equally reluctant to apologize. It’s the truth, after all.

Whiskers’ fiery, indignant sky blue eyes darken to a downcast azure. Tears rain down her whiskered cheeks. Unable to come up with a rebuttal, she fades from sight.

~xXx~

Naruto knows there are many girls that would kill to kiss Sasuke. She now knows just _how many_ because they all rushed her like an angry mob after The Incident. 

Why, oh, why did it have to happen during the break before third period? Naruto has to stew in shame as just about every girl in the seventh grade glares daggers at her for the rest of the day.

Lunch is particularly awful. One of Sasuke’s fangirls knocks Naruto’s tray out of her hands. Not only does she lose her lunch, but she ends up wearing most of it. Naruto holds it together until she gets to the bathroom, but she can’t help it as tears of anger and embarrassment stream down her cheeks. They know she doesn’t like Sasuke, so what point is there in antagonizing her?

The situation worsens when Spot gets angry at her. He acts like she meant to do it and she betrayed him. Spot immediately backtracks when she begins to sob, but the damage has been done. He awkwardly tries to pat her head in comfort but she slaps his hand away. Or tries to, anyway.

He fades from view just as the door to the bathroom swings open. Expecting another fangirl coming to rub salt in her wounds, Naruto flinches and hastily backs into a stall. In a vain attempt to hide, she holds her breath and lifts her feet off the ground. There are only four stalls, but she refuses to make it easy for them.

A pair of feet stops right in front of her stall and Naruto braces herself for a barrage of insults. To her great relief, a soft, tentative voice calls out to her. Hinata asks, “Are you okay? D-do you want some help cleaning your uniform?”

Desperate for any positive interaction today, Naruto throws open the stall door and wails. Hinata jolts, but she doesn’t fight it when Naruto swoops her into a hug. Naruto jolts in turn when Hinata returns the embrace. She rubs Naruto’s back until her sobs calm into sniffles.

Once Naruto calms down, she remembers that her uniform is dirty. Quickly backing off, she apologizes, “I’m sorry!” 

“I-It’s fine! Nothing a little cleaning won’t fix,” Hinata assures. Together, they wash the soup and sauces off their clothes in the sink. 

Though they have been in the same class for as long as Naruto can remember, her interactions with Hinata have been limited. Hinata was shy and usually ran off or fainted when Naruto talked to her, but she listens to Naruto’s troubles with a sympathetic ear as they work. By the time they finish, Naruto feels much better. Hinata’s offer to listen whenever Naruto needs to vent is a particularly pleasant surprise. 

The bell signaling the end of lunch cuts through the calm atmosphere like a knife. Hinata has a perfect attendance record, so Naruto expects her to dash back to class. Instead, she invites, “D-Do you want to walk back to class together?”

“Sure,” Naruto eagerly accepts. She has no desire to go back to class, but the prospect of making a stable friend is too irresistible.

Spot is Naruto’s best friend of all time, but she can’t talk to him in public. Shikamaru recently found his soulmate and Naruto fears Kiba and Chouji’s aren’t far behind. Her cousin, Karin, is sadly more interested in Sasuke than her these days. Honestly, Naruto is afraid of what will happen when she has no one left.

Being friends with Hinata doesn’t sound bad at all. Other people can see and hear her, for starters. Better still, she doesn’t seem to have a crush on Sasuke nor has she met her soulmate yet. Hinata is a bit quiet, but Naruto isn’t going to be picky with her meagre friend group shrinking by the day.

When they get to class, the other girls snicker at the spots on their uniforms that they hadn’t managed to wash out, but Hinata’s reassuring smile from her seat across the room takes the edge off of Naruto’s ire.

Thankfully, the rest of the day passes without another major incident. Sasuke sends her a couple of strange looks throughout swim practice, but Naruto is infinitely grateful when he doesn’t try to approach her. She isn’t sure she’ll be able to hold back her temper if one of his fangirls tries to start something twice in the same day.

After swim practice ends, Naruto approaches Hinata. Bracing herself for rejection, she asks, “Hey, do you wanna walk home together?”

“I would l-like that,” Hinata happily accepts, much to Naruto’s relief and delight. They only talk about boring topics like homework and tests as they walk, but the conversation is comfortable, easy. 

When they reach the street corner where they have to part ways, Naruto has no problem suggesting, “Let’s meet here tomorrow and walk to school together!” 

Tentatively returning Naruto’s exuberant parting wave, Hinata readily agrees once again, “Okay!” 

They’ll have to work on that, but Naruto has a skip in her step all the same.

~xXx~

The trouble starts up again when Naruto gets home. Spot silently broods as he sits on the floor of her room. He has his arms crossed and his back to her. 

“I’m done changing. You can turn around now,” she says as she tosses the dirty uniform into the corner. She’ll remember to put it in the hamper later.

He doesn’t move.

Flopping onto the bed, Naruto asks, “So? Are you gonna just ignore me for the rest of...forever?”

A slight movement. She can’t be certain since his hair is so wild, but maybe it was a nod. Maybe some apologies are in order. “I’m sorry I slapped your hand away. You gotta admit that you were pretty mean, too, though.”

Silence.

Fine, she’ll just annoy him into responding. “I made a new friend today, ya know.”

Spot twitches.

Naruto kicks her legs as they hang over the side of the bed. She casually continues, “Her name is Hinata. She’s kinda quiet, but I like her. We hugged and she helped me clean my uniform.” 

Spot relaxes, but he doesn’t turn around. Maybe recounting things he already knows isn’t annoying enough? Changing tactics, she tries, “She’s much better than Sasuke.”

That gets an immediate response. Spot looks positively furious as he turns to hiss. _I can’t believe you let that_ **_clod_ ** _kiss you._

Naruto would shake him if she could. “You saw that other kid knock me into him! I didn’t wanna kiss Sasuke, ya know!”

Spot huffs like he doesn’t believe her.

Naruto tries to reason with him, “When have I ever shown an interest in Sasuke?”

_You talk about him all the time._

“Cuz we’re rivals! I hate him!”

Spot’s doubtful noise ratchets Naruto’s mild irritation up to unbridled fury. She retorts, “If you’re so jealous, then come find me already!”

Spot has nothing to say to that. 

The abashed expression on his face vindicates her, but she can’t seem to stop. “You think I like watchin everyone else meet their soulmate? Being left behind?” Naruto takes a deep breath and coldly states, “I’m waitin for you, cuz that’s all I _can_ do. I can’t go out and look for you. But what are you doin? Why’re you taking so long? Did you forget me?”

Spot twists his face into several expressions before settling on a frown. He’s only a projection of her soulmate’s soul; he doesn’t have an answer for her.

~xXx~

Naruto can admit that things got out of hand, but these things happen in the heat of battle. Stuffing snow down Sasuke’s jacket _may_ have been a step too far. However, she wouldn’t have been as mad if Sasuke hadn’t taken a cheap shot and chucked a snowball at her face. 

He should have just admitted defeat after her finishing move, but no, he had to keep the fight going because he’s a sore loser. What was he expecting by staying outside for hours in a cold, wet jacket? If he got sick, it was his fault. Thus, she shouldn’t have to waste her precious free time bringing Sasuke his homework.

Naturally, Kakashi-sensei doesn’t see it that way. Without even listening to her arguments, he hands her a heavy folder and shoos her out of the teachers’ office. He must still be mad about the crotch shot she gave him when she was eight. It was his fault, though! Nobody gets away with badmouthing Obito on Naruto’s watch!

Grumbling about how unfair life is, Naruto retrieves her bag from the classroom. The sun is setting when she finally exits the school gates. Hopefully, Sasuke’s mom won’t insist she stay for dinner or wait for one of her parents to come pick her up. Naruto wouldn’t mind staying if it didn’t mean even more time with her worst enemy. Worse still, he’s sick. She wouldn’t put it past him to try to get her sick as revenge.

Admittedly, Naruto feels a little bad that Sasuke has a pile of work to catch up on “because of her,” but she’s mostly mad that she has to cancel her dinner plans with Hinata. Not having to see Sasuke’s smug bastard face made the wait bearable, but Naruto had been dying to try the challenge bowl at Ichiraku’s all week!

When Naruto calls to share the awful news, Hinata kindly offers to wait until next week so they can try it together. Hinata really is the best. Their friendship was born of less than ideal circumstances, but high school would be unbearable without her. 

Unlike their classmates, Hinata believes that Spot exists and doesn’t make Naruto feel bad for talking to him. Spot doesn’t like Hinata, but he refuses to explain why. He just calls Naruto an idiot and broods instead of answering. The behavior is nothing new, so she just shrugs it off. 

It’s kind of odd that Hinata isn’t interested in finding her soulmate, but Naruto appreciates that about her. Hinata never even brings up the topic; almost as if she’s avoiding it. It must be out of consideration for Naruto’s feelings. It makes her feel guilty for not wanting Hinata to find them. Well, at least not until Spot finally stops dragging his ass and finds her. 

Naruto is certain she wouldn’t be able to handle being the only one in their class that hasn’t connected with their soulmate. She tries to ignore the fact that they’re all paired off, but none of them seem to do anything alone anymore. On one particularly horrible occasion, Naruto was forced into the dreaded position of seventh wheel. 

Longing for the old days, she badgered Shikamaru, Chouji, and Kiba into going to a movie together. It took a lot of wheedling and rearranging of their schedules, but she got them all to set aside an afternoon of their time. 

If Naruto had known that meant their soulmates were also coming, she wouldn’t have bothered. Under normal circumstances, she likes Temari, Karui, and Tamaki well enough. However, she didn’t care much for them when they all started sucking face with her friends ten minutes into the movie. Not only had it been an assault to the ears, but none of them really watched the movie. Thus, no one had the faintest clue what she was talking about when she commented on how epic the climax was.

Things only got worse from there. The tables in the mall’s food court only seated six people and the chairs were welded to the ground. It would defeat the purpose of coming together if she sat at another table, so Naruto had to awkwardly ask an employee for a regular chair. After a stern warning not to steal it, she was finally allowed to rejoin the group. Unfortunately, she picked the worst side of the table to intrude on.

Temari and Karui could keep their hands to themselves in the light of day, but Tamaki was another story entirely. Naruto knew that it was hypocritical of her to blame them when she often got called out on her touchy-feeliness, but a front row seat to Kiba and Tamaki’s love fest was just cruel and unusual punishment. Naruto might as well have been on the other side of the country with how little attention they paid her.

Naruto alternated between gaping and gagging at their lovey-dovey behavior. Kiba is usually goofy, but his lovesickness turned him into a complete fool. Between the pet names, excess kissing, and feeding each other, she could barely keep her ramen down. 

Shikamaru and Chouji weren’t nearly as bad, but their general disinterest in anything other than soulmate-adjacent topics didn’t make for interesting conversation. They didn’t have malicious intentions, none of them did, but Naruto never felt more alone than in that moment.

Spot’s voice was gentle. _Maybe we should take our leave?_

Naruto nodded. When she excused herself, she got some distracted waves but not much else.

The experience highlighted just how much soulmates dominate each other’s lives. Naruto always knew she was missing out on something great, but seeing just how happy her friends were was hard to take. She envied them for having a connection with someone so profound that the rest of the world fades from view. 

Most of the time, Naruto can see right through Spot. He’s usually translucent like a ghost, but sometimes he looks a little more solid. It’s always sudden and it never lasts as long as Naruto would like, but in random locations or at random times Spot’s features will come into focus. His face has never been blurry enough that she won’t recognize him when they finally meet, but quite a bit of her isolated childhood was spent using Spot’s transparency like metal detector to find him.

She overheard on the TV that soulmates are generally born close together in age and location. Spot already broke one of the rules, but Naruto thought she could find him if she looked hard enough. She trekked most, if not all, of Konoha and only learned one thing: Spot solidifies the most in the Uchiha compound.

After the discovery, Naruto was less reluctant whenever Mom dragged her to Sasuke’s house. Naruto was still forced to interact with Sasuke, but she took advantage of the situation. Once she annoyed Sasuke into hiding in his room or ignoring her, she searched for Spot. 

Quite a few trips and awkward misunderstandings later, Naruto was sad to conclude that Spot wasn’t an Uchiha. He looked and acted like one, but he didn’t live in their compound. All Uchiha live in the compound; they were known for their exclusivity. Despite the mean looks they get, Obito and Izumi never moved away, so what are the odds that someone as stubborn as Spot left?

_Look who’s talking._

Instead of responding, Naruto sticks her tongue out at him. Eager to get out of the cold, she hurries to Sasuke’s front door. To announce her arrival, she presses the doorbell seven or eight times in quick succession before assaulting the door. 

Usually, Sasuke’s mom answers the door before Naruto finishes knocking. Mikoto’s speed and stealth have always amazed her, so Naruto knows that someone else is slowly stomping their way to the door. Fugaku and Itachi wouldn’t lower themselves to such uncouth behavior, but Sasuke might if he was angry enough. He was supposedly bedridden, though. 

Whoever they are, they cruelly stop not too far from the door. Naruto whines, “Uuuugh, hurry uuuuuuup!”

 _Yes, whining ought to put some spring in their step. Perhaps, you could try kicking the door down next?_

“If you’re not gonna be helpful, shut up,” she retorts and turns to glare at Spot.

No one is there. 

That’s odd. Naruto jolts and turns back around at the sound of the door slamming open. Confused, she asks, “How’d ya open the...door...”

Oh.

Not-Spot looks angry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hear you asking: why do the Uchiha still live in a compound? Well, that’s an easy one, sport! The idea of a town consisting of nothing but brooding beautiful people was too amusing of an idea for me to let go of.


	2. Whiskers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As usual, Madara has had a Tough Time of it.

_Not much is known for certain about soulmarks and soulmates, but they have four general patterns accepted as fact:_

  1. _Soulmarks manifest as names on the skin or a thread of fate_
  2. _Soulmarks are present from birth_
  3. _Soulmates are born around the same age and in the same location_
  4. _Encounters occur around the time both parties reach adolescence_



_Any exceptions to these rules are considered extremely abnormal._

* * *

The teacher scolds Madara for ripping the page out of his textbook, but he has grown used to negative attention. Madara is the only one in his kindergarten class that doesn't have a blurred name on his skin or an invisible string on his finger. He doesn't have anything.

Mother and Father tell him that he's a late bloomer. They tell him that he'll get one eventually and not to worry about it. They think he doesn't hear the anxious, hushed tones they argue in after they think Madara has gone to bed.

He doesn't bother lying about it at school. His classmates will find out when his soulmate never shows up, so he doesn't see the point. However, that doesn't mean that he'll let them talk down to him.

The first boy that ridicules Madara gets a black eye. It may seem like overkill, but he has to set an example. Unfortunately, neither the teacher nor his parents are satisfied with that explanation. However, Madara is proven right when none of the other children are fool enough to mention it to his face afterward.

~xXx~

Mother, Father, and Izuna are out of the house, so Madara turns the TV on to make the house seem less dark and empty. Rain pours down the window pane of the living room as he lazily flips through the channels.

"— _sale ends on—"_

" _How dare y—"_

" _When a soulmark forms—"_

" _If you can eat this entire vat of—"_

Belatedly, Madara realizes what the last program had been talking about and scrambles to change the channel back. He accidentally knocks the remote off the table he's leaning on in his haste to grab it, but he manages to locate it in record time. Hurriedly, he flips back to the previous channel.

Madara listens with rapt attention to a soulmark documentary.

" _No one knows how or why soulmarks exist, but the latest research suggests that they are unique to humans."_

Does that mean that he's not human?

" _Some theorize that the soul retains the same mate and type of mark no matter how many times it's reincarnated."_

So, either his soul never had a mate or...he's just broken.

Incensed, Madara stabs the off button on the remote and stomps his way out of the room and out of the house. He's drenched by the time he arrives at the compound's dōjō, but he couldn't care less.

He loses track of time in drills. His muscles burn and the bokken is an uncomfortable weight in his hand instead of an extension of his body by the time Izuna startles him. Sliding the door open, he calls, "Nii-san, Mother said it's time for dinner..."

"I'll be right there. Give me a minute, " he replies as he wipes at the sweat on his face. Madara's stranglehold on the wooden sword slackens when Izuna's gaze lingers on his white knuckles.

Seeing right through him, Izuna asks, "What's wrong?"

Izuna never ceases to amaze with how perceptive he is. He has probably noticed the scathing looks directed at Madara and is beginning to piece a theory together. However, there's no need to weigh Izuna down with confirmation that his brother is a freak of nature. Forcing a light tone, Madara smiles as he replies, "Nothing at all."

~xXx~

It's unlikely that a first-grader would voluntarily watch the documentary he stumbled upon, but it's possible that his classmates came to a similar conclusion on their own. Madara gets a reputation as a wild animal and he consistently lives up to it by reacting violently whenever soulmarks are mentioned in his presence.

He has never been popular, but the other children start avoiding him and whispering about him. They say things like "my mom said only bad people don't have soulmates" and "maybe he killed his soulmate." They call him "Blank."

It's fine.

They may need another person to feel fulfilled, but Madara isn't pathetic like them. Izuna is all the company that he needs. A soulmate couldn't possibly come between brothers as close as he and Izuna are.

Madara periodically checks the blurry name on Izuna's wrist out of pure curiosity. No other reason.

~xXx~

If lacking a soulmark is considered a defect, having a legible soulmark on the first day of third grade should result in being submitted for study. Instead, the soulmates that find each other during roll-call drown in congratulations.

The entire class flocks to the new couple to wish them well and express their envy while Madara looks on. Everyone wants a look at their soulmarks to confirm that they're bearing witness to a "miracle." The attention clearly embarrasses the two boys, but they radiate joy and comfort as they cling to the person born to meet them.

Charmed by the display, the teacher changes the seating arrangement to accommodate them. However, she must have been warned about Madara beforehand, because he remains in a row of his own in the back of the room.

Madara's lips curl into a sneer. A dull crunch reaches his ears as the pencil snaps in his fist.

~xXx~

The middle school entrance ceremony drags on as the student body is subjected to one long-winded speech after another. Madara is beginning to nod off when the gym floorboards beside him creak. A voice far too close to his ear jolts him awake with a question. "What's your name?"

Madara violently flinches away from the offender leaning into his personal space. He sends the boy a dirty look and turns back to the stage, but an insistent poke to his arm tells him that the boy is not easily deterred. Without being prompted, the boy introduces himself, "My name is Hashirama."

Madara scowls. "I didn't ask."

A teacher shushes them, so Hashirama lowers his voice to a whisper. "So, what's your name?"

Perhaps his reputation will scare him off? Hashirama seems pretty chatty, so he might have already received a warning. He answers, "Madara."

Hashirama doesn't even hesitate. He extends his arm for a handshake as he whispers, "Nice to meet you, Madara."

Madara stares at it for a moment. Surprising even himself, he shakes Hashirama's hand and replies, "Likewise."

"What class are you—" Hashirama's question is interrupted by a book to the back of his head.

The same teacher that shushed them before hisses, "Pay attention!"

Hashirama wilts like a kicked puppy. Satisfied with the chastened visage, the teacher backs off. Once the teacher is far enough away, Madara answers, "Class 1-A. What about you?"

In an instant, Hashirama's depression morphs into excitement. He grins as he replies, "Me too! Hey, do you like bonsai?"

Madara bluntly asks, "What are you, eighty?" Hashirama wilts again and Madara groans, "I've never tried it."

Hashirama hums thoughtfully. "Guess I'll have to introduce you. Do you—"

" _Senju._ " Hashirama curls into himself at the teacher's irate tone. "How many times do I need to—"

— _and that concludes the entrance ceremony. The first-year students may return to their classrooms. Everyone else, please remain seated._

Madara stands from his seat on the floor and turns to leave. Hashirama directs an apologetic look at the teacher before following suit.

They get to know each other as they walk back to their classroom at a leisurely pace. Madara is quite pleased to learn that Hashirama also plans to join the kendo team. The day flies by and before he knows it, he and Hashirama are walking home together. Madara belatedly wonders if this is what it's like to have a friend.

~xXx~

Izuna is a comforting presence at home and around the compound, but school has always been a trial Madara must face alone. Elementary school was a slog, and he expected middle school to finally push him over the edge with an onslaught of others' soulmate encounters. Thankfully, friendship takes the edge off his overwhelming envy.

Suddenly, Madara has someone to eat lunch with. Someone to joke with in between classes. Someone to complain about homework with. Someone to compete with. Someone who wants to be around him.

They get along so well that Madara starts to wonder if they're soulmates. He can easily imagine spending the rest of his life with Hahsirama. The only problem is the thread of fate around Hashirama's pinky.

Most of their classmates have deciphered their soulmate's first name or felt a tug on their string if they haven't already connected with their soulmate. The fact that Hashirama hasn't gives Madara hope. Neither a name nor a thread have appeared on his person, but no one really knows how soulmarks work. Therefore, a string connecting him to Hashirama could appear one day. ~~Hashirama's string could snap.~~

~xXx~

On a humid summer day, Madara decides to ask Hashirama out. It's risky since they live in a small, conservative town, but Hashirama is fairly open-minded and might agree despite the knowledge that Madara isn't his soulmate (yet). While they're skipping rocks at their usual spot on the river seems like as good a time as any.

They're riding their bikes to the river when Hashirama suddenly brakes. Before his bike even finishes skidding to a halt, it's abandoned in favor taking off down a street to the left. Madara brakes before calling out, "Hashirama?! Where are you going?!"

Focused on some invisible trail, Hashirama neither slows nor answers him. In his haste, he clips a street corner before disappearing around it. Madara groans and climbs off his bike. He grumbles, "This better be good."

The scene he stumbles upon when he catches up tears his heart in two. Despite the heat, Hashirama and some redhead animatedly chatter as they embrace. Madara doesn't want to believe it, but the evidence is undeniable.

Madara has never seen the girl at school nor has Hashirama ever mentioned having any other close friends. Her feet are bare and only half of her hair is pinned up, so she must have been in a hurry to get here. Hashirama couldn't have possibly seen her from where they were, so outside forces must have alerted him that she was nearby.

Completely lost in each other, they take no notice of him. Madara might as well be air to them.

~xXx~

Hashirama apologizes, but he's almost never available after that. Every waking moment needs to be spent with Mito. When Madara does manage to wring some time out of him, most of it is spent listening to anecdotes and "fun facts" about Mito.

The envy he felt in third grade pales in comparison. He's jealous of Hashirama for finding his soulmate and of Mito for being that soulmate. The feeling of abandonment is the worst of all, though.

~xXx~

The sun sets as Madara walks. His hands are stuffed in his pockets to protect them from the early October chill. The road leading to the compound is empty save for him. As he crosses the bridge, the stone he has been kicking along the ground skitters between the bars of the railing and plunks into the water. Madara releases an exasperated sigh.

_Can't you just get another one?_

Madara jumps out of his skin. He whirls to face the origin of the voice and comes face-to-face with a woman, no, a girl.

Blonde hair glows in the fading light as bright blue eyes meet his gaze. A wide grin stretching across her face draws attention to the strangely endearing markings on her cheeks. Her radiance chases basic sentence structure out of his brain, "Ye...Wha...Who?"

She laughs. _You seem like you're gonna be fun. I can't wait to meetcha, ya know!_

That's odd. Weren't they meeting right now? Come to think of it, there hadn't been anyone else in sight just a moment ago. He wasn't so absorbed in kicking a pebble as to not notice her approach, so where did she come from?

Madara pauses. Her cheery voice has an unearthly echo to it; almost as if it's coming from inside his head.

_Yep!_

Was going mad supposed to be this abrupt? He thought there would be some warning signs before having hallucinations this vivid.

She flaps her hand at him like he's being ridiculous. _No~! I'm not here right now, but I'm real._

That sounds like something a mirage would say.

She pouts and settles her hands on her hips. _You can't figure it out? I already gave you a clue, ya know!_

Madara reviews their interaction thus far. Her comment about meeting in the future comes to mind. His eyes widen. No.

_Yes!_

She couldn't possibly be...

_I am!_

It's far too late for him. He doesn't have a...An excited nod from her coaxes out the word. "Soulmate."

A satisfied grin settles on her face as she teases. _Was that so hard?_

Madara frowns. Assuming he isn't crazy—

_I'm tellin ya, you're not._

Then, his soulmark is a mirage? Madara huffs in frustration. Not only has his soulmark taken it's sweet time appearing, but he can't even tell anyone about it. He would be locked up for certain. He side-eyes her. His soulmate. A blush dusts his cheeks as she directs a dazzling smile at him. Well, better late than never.

 _That's the spirit!_ Her laugh is already starting to grow on him.

Communicating telepathically will take some time to get used to. Madara asks aloud, "What's your name?"

Her smile dims. _I don't know._

"How can you not know? How am I supposed to find you if I don't know your name?" Madara's frown deepens when she struggles to answer.

 _I don't know!_ _ **You**_ _figure it out!_

Her defensive tone and rigid stance beg him not to push the matter. She only relaxes when Madara relents. Tipping his head skyward, he releases a long sigh. Things could be worse. Besides, an image can be just as useful as a name if used correctly.

Madara looks toward her and chuckles when she spins in a circle for him. She looks a bit older than him; a second or third-year in high school if he had to guess. The thought of the wait continuing disappoints him, but it gives him time to catch up to her height. Looking up to make eye-contact is unacceptable.

A snicker echoes inside his head. _Shorty._

He scowls, but examines her uniform. Well, the bits that aren't obscured by a horrendously orange puffy jacket, anyway. Based on the navy pleated skirt and black knee-socks, it's a standard sailor uniform. Madara groans. She isn't making this easy for him.

_Don't worry, I'll help!_

She punctuates the statement with a thumbs up. It's not very reassuring.

_Hey!_

A thought strikes and he voices it, "What should I call you?"

She shrugs. _Whatever you want, I guess._

Madara racks his brain. A real name won't do. If it's wrong, he'll have to unlearn it. Best to go with a nickname. Her cheek marks catch his eye. They remind him of whiskers...That'll do. "Whiskers."

_What?!_

"You have something better?"

The following silence is answer enough.

"That's what I thought."

Whiskers sticks her tongue out at him, but says nothing more about it.

~xXx~

Over the course of a week, Madara collects as many school catalogs as he can. The female uniforms depicted vary more than the boys', but Whiskers' uniform is so basic that he has to trust her judgment when she tells him whether or not it's the correct school. It would be so much easier if she could just remember the name.

After three tireless days of research, they finally find the correct one. Whiskers points at the page flipped open in the catalog precariously hanging off of Madara's desk as she exclaims _That's it!_

Madara jolts from under a pile of other catalogs on top of his bed. "Which one?!"

 _This one! This one!_ She can't lift the catalog to show him, so she keeps pointing at it as Madara wades through the mess his room has become. Once he finally reaches his desk, he picks up the catalog and holds it up beside her.

He supposes that it looks right. The female uniform in the picture looks similar to all the others, but this is the first one she has been certain about. Konoha Academy, it is.

On a whim, Madara rides to the address listed in the pamphlet. It's alarming when he doesn't immediately find it.

_Where is it?!_

"Calm down. If the address was printed in a pamphlet, then it's around here somewhere." He hopes. Madara dismounts his bike and wheels it beside him as they search for the school. They come upon a large empty lot and Whiskers freaks out again.

_It's supposed to be right here, ya know!_

Unwilling to give up so easily, Madara inspects the lot. He walks the perimeter until he finds a sign.

**UNDER CONSTRUCTION:**

**Konoha Academy**

Madara and Whiskers breathe a sigh of relief. There's hope yet.

~xXx~

Through a combination of loathing his peers, general disinterest in academics, and focusing on athletic pursuits, Madara's grades have never been the best. Classmates and teachers alike are dumbfounded to see the usually disinterested Madara suddenly start handing in homework assignments and diligently taking notes in class. His parents are too pleased to ask about his sudden change of heart.

All Madara needed was a goal to strive for. Whiskers will be waiting for him at Konoha Academy and he can't afford to be sloppy with high school entrance exams around the corner. Failure is not an option.

Finally out of the honeymoon phase of his soulbond, Hashirama notices Madara's sudden interest in school. Curious, he asks, "What's so great about Konoha Academy?"

"What isn't there to like? It's close to home and their kendo team is decent." Madara makes up the lie on the spot. He has no plans of telling Hashirama that his soulmark manifested as a ghost and told him to go there.

 _I feel like it was more of a team decision._ Whiskers nitpicks as she crosses her arms.

Hashirama scrunches his face up. "The name is so unoriginal. Besides, you didn't seem all that interested in high school until a couple of weeks ago."

Madara shrugs. "People change, Hashirama."

"I think I know why he wants to go there," says Mito as she nibbles at her lunch.

Madara has begrudgingly come to accept Mito's presence, but she's too smart for her own good. He barely manages to hold back his snarl, "Oh?"

She nods as she carefully places her chopsticks down. "I think you're expecting someone to be there."

Foolishly, he challenges, "What makes you say that?"

A deceptively kind smile stretches across Mito's face. "Well, you have only ever mentioned Konoha Academy despite the plethora of other schools that have better kendo teams. Furthermore, the school is located on the opposite side of town from the Uchiha compound, if I'm not mistaken."

A whistle echoes through his head. _Dang, she's good._

Madara mentally shushes Whiskers while he tries to think of a rebuttal. Unfortunately, too much time passes and Mito's smile takes on a satisfied quality. The silence lasts so long that even Hashirama connects the dots. A wide smile stretches across his face as he raises his voice, "Your so—"

Luckily, Madara manages to slap his hands over Hashirama's mouth before he garners too much attention from their classmates. He hisses as he drops his hands, "Yes, I have reason to believe that she will be there. _Now drop it._ "

In a playful tone, Mito asks, "How do you know that she's going to be there?"

Madara glares daggers at her, but Mito steadily meets his gaze. Hashirama chimes in, "Yeah, how do you know that?"

"I just do. Can we please talk about something else?"

Mito lets Madara change the topic, but he can tell that this isn't the last he'll hear of this.

~xXx~

He knows Mito likes to toy with him, but taking the same high school entrance exam? Isn't that a little obsessive?

 _Should_ _ **you**_ _be saying that?_

Madara directs a look of betrayal at Whiskers. "Whose side are you on?"

Without hesitation, she answers with a sunny smile. _Always yours. It's just you and me, against the world, ya know!_

His cheeks color as he grumbles a reply, "Doesn't seem like it."

_Don't worry! Once we meet, I'll protect you from big, bad Mito._

His scowl only earns him a laugh from Whiskers.

~xXx~

Madara, Hashirama, and Mito pass Konoha Academy's entrance exam in the end. Mito patiently wheedles bits and pieces about Whiskers from him, so he has her and Hashirama's assistance with the search. Madara is grateful that they never ask how he knows what she looks like. He suspects Mito has something to do with Hashirama's lack of nosey questions, though.

Three long years are spent eagerly scoping entrance and graduation ceremonies for blonde hair. Every winter without a puffy orange jacket in his periphery is a disappointment.

Graduation is less of a celebration and more of a harsh reality check for Madara. He pastes a vacant smile on his face, but his eyes are dead. Hashirama gives his shoulder a comforting pat and Mito casts an apologetic look at him, but nothing fills the emptiness.

It was foolish of him to hope. Everyone was right. He's a misfit.

Whiskers' voice is unusually quiet. _No, you're not._

If he wasn't a defect, then they would have met by now.

She tries to laugh. _I'm just a little late, that's all. Just wait—_

Madara is tired of waiting. He's so tired that he just stops caring.

~xXx~

No one has ever heard of someone lacking a soulmate, but it's not unheard of for soulmates to never bond. Life gets in the way. People die young or unexpectedly. Truly, nothing is certain.

Perhaps, Whiskers died and she's haunting him. Perhaps, she's just a figment of his imagination. Perhaps, he's just as insane as his classmates used to whisper behind his back.

 _That's not true! I'm real!_ Tears stream down her face as she tries to clutch his face but her hands pass through him. The desperation sounds genuine as she pleads. _I'm sorry I'm taking so long!_

Her breath hitches in a sob and her voice cracks. _Don't leave! Don't stop looking for me! Don't give up on me!_

She can't touch him, so she settles for clenching her fists. _I want to meet you, too!_

The mind is really something. If he hadn't heard those words so many times already, he might have been swayed.

~xXx~

Madara selects a college far away from Konoha. He doesn't cross any oceans, but he figures Ame is far enough away that the shame won't be able to follow him.

He must have some level of conscious control over Whiskers because her voice and image grow fainter with each passing day. Most of the time, Madara is able to ignore her entirely. The only time she has any semblance of form is when he's too drunk to block her out.

The sound of a door slamming closed rouses him from his alcohol-induced slumber. His one-room apartment isn't that big, so the force sends vibrations through the floor to where he lay prone. One of his flings must have left in a hurry once they saw his room in the light of day. He can't remember whether their soulmate died young or married someone else, but Madara was good enough to fill the void for a night.

Sunlight from the window aggravates his hangover, so he rolls away from it. Some bottles and trash crunch underneath him, but he successfully escapes. His stomach doesn't appreciate his efforts, though. Luckily, the nausea abates after some rapid inhales and exhales.

Whiskers chooses that moment to scold him. _You shouldn't drink so much._

The echo of her voice does little to help his splitting headache. Madara hisses, "Leave me alone."

Whiskers doesn't say anything more, but she doesn't disappear either. Stubbornly, she sits beside him. A disgusted look at the vomit stains on his shirt set him off. Irate, Madara callously asks the question that plagues him when his thoughts drift to truly depressing territories, "Why are you even wearing a high school uniform? Are you taunting me?"

Angry with him for any number of reasons, Whiskers frostily replies. _Maybe you ask me to wear it when you come to see me at the brothel where I work._

It's the coldest her voice has ever sounded. It doesn't suit her. Madara prefers her smiles, but he hasn't done anything to earn them lately. He doesn't plan on correcting his behavior, either.

~xXx~

Four years pass in a drunken stupor. They try to send him back home with a diploma, but Madara stubbornly plants his feet in Ame.

Madara finds a pathetically small startup and decides to build it up on a whim. He commits himself to the task and Akatsuki flourishes. He takes an infinite amount of pleasure in the fact that their holdings rival the Uchiha's in just a few short years. Better yet, his new salary allows him to graduate from cheap beer to top-quality sake and champagne that costs as much as some make in a year. His penthouse apartment is filled with enough alcohol to compete with a liquor store in an effort to drown out the deafening silence.

~xXx~

The week of Izuna's birthday is the only time of year that Madara uses some of the vacation time he has stockpiled. Returning to Konoha for even that long is quite the trial, but he powers through it for some quality time with his beloved brother. Unfortunately, Madara is contractually obligated to intrude upon Izuna's hospitality while he's in town because staying in a hotel while visiting family is "pure nonsense."

In the heart of the Uchiha compound, Whiskers is impossible to ignore. It's as if she's making up for lost time with the volume of her constant pestering.

_If you didn't stick your head in the sand, maybe I wouldn't have to yell._

An indignant expression adorns her opaque face. It's as if she draws power from Konoha—yet another reason to loathe visiting his hometown.

Surprisingly, Whiskers smirks. _You won't be saying that for long, ya know._

Madara's eyes narrow. What could she mean by that?

She snickers as she shoos him away. _Just bring Sasuke his soup._

Madara scowls at the reminder. Through a series of unfortunate coincidences, he got saddled with being Sasuke's nursemaid. Everyone else that could have taken care of the fool was busy with work, school, or some other convenient excuse.

In Madara's opinion, Sasuke deserves to be sick. They have only met a few times before today, but Sasuke has always been aloof. However, that assessment was quite off the mark if he got into a snowball fight at his age. Not only did he let himself be goaded into childish nonsense, but he refused to accept what sounds like a clear loss. "Remind me, how long did you stay out in the cold after that girl stuffed snow down your jacket?"

Sasuke glares at him while he sets his soup down on the bedside table. Madara couldn't care less. Spending time with a sullen teenager is not how he wanted to spend his evening either. The incessant ringing of the doorbell breaks through the tense atmosphere. Feeble as Sasuke looks swathed in blankets, the pallid face peeking out manages to smirk as he retorts, "Better answer that."

The sass is punctuated with a sneeze, but it still has him stomping down the stairs to the door. Madara ignores Whiskers' cackling as he approaches the front door.

The visitor switches to pounding on the door and Whiskers sing-songs. _They'll beat the door down if ya don't hurry up, ya know!_

Madara stops in his path to whip his head backward. "Will you—"

The retort dies on his lips. No one is there. A muffled voice calls out from the other side of the door, "Uuuugh, hurry uuuuuuup!"

That's odd. They sound like Whiskers, but they don't have...an...echo…

Madara throws open the door with enough force to break it. Not-Whiskers jolts in surprise before asking, "How'd ya open the...door..."

She stares at him, dumbfounded. Slowly, a hand retracts from one of the hideous orange jacket's pockets and reaches out to him. As calmly as he can manage, Madara meets her halfway. A spark of electricity shoots up his spine the moment their fingers brush. The feeling is so satisfying that he doesn't even care when Not-Whiskers suddenly exclaims, "SPOT!"

Tears stream down her face as she tackles Madara. He catches her and cages her against him. His vision swims as a series of images pour into his head. It takes him a moment to understand what's happening, but he has a theory as several images of Not-Whiskers at different ages push to the forefront of his mind.

They're her memories. No, "Spot's" memories.

It makes him angry that the entire time they were supposed to be together, they had to settle for projections of each other's souls. In essence, the universe screwed up when one of them was supposed to be born and tried to slap a bandaid over it.

Parsing the massive amount of information gives him a headache, but he knows one thing for certain: the half-hearted consolation prize hadn't been enough for her either. Bits and pieces of a childhood just as lonely as his boils his blood, but he comes back to the present when Not-Whiskers' breath hitches.

Family compound or not, it wouldn't look good for a man his age to be seen clutching a sobbing high school girl. Madara hastily pulls her inside. He reluctantly pulls away to shut the door behind them, but Not-Whiskers cries for him, "Spooooooot."

It's immensely satisfying, but that name makes him sound like a dead pet that she's crying over. He tightens his embrace as he gently corrects her, "Madara."

She sobs, "Madaraaaaaa."

It sounds so right coming from her. Dying to know, he asks, "What's your name?"

"Na—" Her breath hitches, but she powers through it, "Narutoooo."

It's a unique name. But then, a unique name is appropriate for a unique person. The one and only person for him. His soulmate. His.

Whiskers charmed him, but the overwhelming love he feels for Naruto is a bit frightening. They just met, but he can't imagine life without her. He wants to know everything about her and never let her go. Luckily, the slender arms wrapped in a death grip around his ribcage try their best to mold them into one person, so she must feel the same.

Madara rests his head atop hers and sighs. Naruto's sniffles gradually lessen as she calms in his hold. There's an uncomfortable wet spot on his shirt, but he could bask in this moment forever.

Of course, Naruto chooses that moment to ask, "Where's Sasuke?"

She's already looking for another man? Voice gruff, Madara questions, "What for?"

The obvious disappointment in her tone mollifies him as she replies, "I have to give him his homework. That's what I came here for, ya know."

Come to think of it, how much has Sasuke overheard? Unlike Whiskers, Naruto's voice isn't confined to his head. Furthermore, her voice carries.

That could be a problem.


	3. At Long Last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Naruto refuses to let Madara's moral dilemma get in her way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut ahoy!

Madara stares at the little window on the side of the electric kettle. He tries to focus on the water boiling and not how cold he feels after he and Naruto reluctantly parted. The errand that finally brought them together could wait, but double-checking that Sasuke had not heard too much could not.

The giddiness of finally finding his soulmate is tarnished by their significant age gap. Naruto must have been born when Whiskers first appeared before him. His newfound obsession hasn't even graduated from high school yet.

He releases a profound sigh. Nothing could be easy for him, could it?

The sound of hurried steps slapping against the kitchen tiles is all the warning Madara gets before Naruto embraces him from behind. It's tough to ignore the pure euphoria radiating from mere contact with his soulmate, but Madara reigns it in. He turns to remind her that they're in someone else's house when she locks her arms around his neck and roughly pulls his face down to her level.

Their first kiss is a violent affair. Years of pent up feelings bleed into the desperate clash of lips. The primal attraction between them drives all of the concerns and inhibitions out of his mind. They fight for dominance. Madara pushes her back against a wall. Naruto's hands fist in his hair as he wraps an arm around her waist. She shivers when his other hand grasps the back of her neck, but her legs easily part when he nudges one of his own in between them.

They break apart for air and the first thing that comes to mind is the bitter wait. Madara hisses in her ear, "Where the hell have you been? You made me wait _years._ "

Naruto indignantly retorts, "I was waiting for you too, ya know! I looked all over Konoha for you!"

Unbidden, a memory of Naruto being scolded by her mother for wandering off to scour the Uchiha compound rises to the surface of his consciousness. If he hadn't moved away, Naruto would have tracked him down. The thought both warms and chastens him. Out of steam, Madara buries his face in Naruto's neck.

He remembers the situation they're in when she hops to hook her legs around his waist. Hastily, Madara hooks his hands under her armpits and tries to lift her off of him. It's equal parts frustrating and endearing when she clings to him harder.

Despite their size difference, Naruto puts up quite a fight as they struggle. He tries to pull away as she does her best to draw him back into her embrace. Unfortunately, Madara only has one pair of arms and they can't secure all of her limbs. Forced to admit defeat, he has no choice but to accept that she isn't going to let go until _she_ wants to. This time, she hisses in his ear, "Why are you trying to run away?"

Madara doesn't like the way she phrased that, but it's hard to argue that he isn't. Matching her wrathful tone, he retorts, "Think about where we are!"

Something soft brushes against his face. Naruto must be puffing her cheeks out in a pout. She releases her hold on him at a glacial pace. It pleases Madara that she wants to be so close to him, but they have to address the elephant in the room. Naruto slides to the ground and refuses to look at him. Still well within his personal space but not physically touching him, she crosses her arms to illustrate her displeasure. Madara feels guilty, but being apart isn't easy for him either.

He sighs. What should they do now?

His brows furrow at the silence. Then, he remembers that Naruto can't hear his thoughts like Whiskers could. That's going to take some getting used to. Luckily, Naruto is too busy pretending to ignore him to comment on the awkward pause.

Madara huffs and settles a hand on Naruto's shoulder. Despite her anger, she leans into his touch and allows him to steer her towards the living room. "I'm guessing you've been here many times before, but make yourself comfortable."

Naruto only nods in reply. By the time Madara returns with two mugs of tea, she has settled at the table. When he sets a mug in front of her, he notices that she's sitting cross-legged atop a floor pillow. The position hikes her uniform skirt up and reveals an indecent amount of skin.

Madara makes a strangled noise before quickly moving to the other side of the table. Naruto looks at him questioningly and opens her mouth to ask, but Madara cuts her off, "Did Sasuke hear us?"

"He mentioned shouting and crying, but nothin' specific. Anyways, what was that noise—"

That's not exactly reassuring. He continues, "How old are you?"

"Seventeen, but seriously—"

"When is your birthday?"

"October 10th, but—"

"What grade are you in?"

Frustrated with the interrogation and interruptions, Naruto glares. Madara apologizes, "I'm sorry, but these are important questions."

"I'm a second-year in high school," she replies tartly.

Madara rests his forehead on steepled fingers while he thinks. Naruto still has eight months left as a legal minor. Not only that, but she'll turn eighteen before she graduates. He groans as Naruto asks, "How old are you?"

Void of emotion, Madara answers, "Thirty-one."

She doesn't even hesitate. "When's your birthday?"

"December 24th."

Naruto snickers, "You're a Christmas Eve baby."

Madara directs an incredulous look at her. Leave it to Naruto to lighten the mood. Far too casually, she asks, "What now?"

A fair question. Madara answers, "I don't know."

Their tea sits untouched as they study each other. Madara wonders what she's thinking. Her uncharacteristically blank face gives no indication of her thoughts, but he worries that she's disgusted by their age difference. He's having a hard time with it, himself.

As if sensing his unease, Naruto soothes him with a single question, "Can I have your phone number?"

Her disinterest in their age gap is a relief. "Sure."

Naruto retrieves her phone from her jacket and brings it over to him. She fidgets beside him while she waits for him to fill in his contact information. Madara can tell that she wants to lean against him, but is restraining the urge. He's disappointed, but he's going to have to get used to the feeling.

She greedily snatches the phone back to inspect his work once he's done. Her fingers fly across the phone's screen and he snorts when his phone vibrates in his pocket. Naruto hums in satisfaction and pockets her phone. She asks, "How often can I call you?"

Madara teases, "You haven't even left yet and you're already worried about when you'll hear my voice next?"

She teases him right back, "Yep. I'm used to hearing your voice all the time, ya know."

~xXx~

Naruto was not exaggerating when she said she was used to hearing his voice all the time. Within fifteen minutes of her reluctant departure, he receives a call from her. They talk about whatever crosses her mind as she walks home. The only reason she hangs up is because she has to sit down for dinner, but she promises to call again soon.

"Soon" apparently means the next day. Whenever she has time, she calls him. Madara is happy that she never seems to get enough of him, but it also makes him feel guilty. Naruto regularly talked to Spot, but he can't remember the last time he talked to Whiskers this much. Naruto clearly misses Spot (and Madara by extension) like a missing limb, so with both remorse and joy he answers every one of her calls.

When the time comes for Madara to return to Ame, Naruto's obvious disappointment at the news prompts him to promise to come back the following weekend. They talk on the phone every day leading up to his return and spend the entire weekend in his hotel room. It becomes routine after several weeks, so Madara decides that it would make more sense to rent an apartment in Konoha and meet there. It would be far less suspicious for her to make regular trips to an apartment complex instead of a swanky hotel, anyway. Besides, Naruto likes being able to leave things in it—like her heavy gaming system.

The first time she lugged her gaming system to the apartment, they spent the entire weekend trying to dominate the other in a shooting game. After that, they got into the habit of trying to crush each other in whatever inane game happened to catch Naruto's fancy. She hates to lose just as much as Madara and they get far too invested in the most ridiculous of games, but it's comfortable and eases his conscience.

Madara tries to keep their relationship as innocent as possible until she turns eighteen. They should probably wait until she graduates, but Madara doubts he'll be able to last that long. A cursory brush of skin is all it takes to intoxicate him. Weekends pass in a blur with her, but unlike his alcoholic benders that left him numb, she makes him feel better than ever. It's a wonder anything gets done if this is how it is for everyone.

They haven't kissed since their Encounter, let alone anything more, but that isn't for a lack of Naruto trying. On numerous occasions, Madara has had to restrain himself as she attacked his neck and pressed herself against him. Sleeping in the same bed is particularly difficult to endure, but she follows him if he tries to sleep anywhere else. No matter how tempting it is to take her up on her enthusiastic invitations, the moral dilemma is always in the back of his mind. However, Naruto has no such problem and decides that he won't either if it gets in the way of her goals.

One Friday evening, Naruto pounces on Madara the second the door shuts behind him. Her arms loop around his neck and pull him down to her level. Caught up in the moment, Madara doesn't notice that she's dragging him towards the couch. He is made aware once Naruto pulls him down on top of her. Her legs lock around him and she grinds her hips against his. Madara shivers and groans into the kiss. With what remains of his common sense, he tries to pull away but Naruto stubbornly clings to him. In the end, all he accomplishes is changing their position on the couch.

Sandwiched between Naruto and the couch, Madara has no avenue of escape. Without the possibility of her prey escaping or gravity to worry about, she's free to focus on grinding into him. Instead of chasing after Madara when he breaks the kiss to throw his head back, she sucks on his neck. He clutches the couch cushions as his senses overload from the stimulation. Climaxing in his underwear from dry-humping like a horny teenager will embarrass him when he looks back on this moment, but for now, it feels too good for him to care.

While recovering, he jumps at an insistent hand near the zipper of his pants. Despite the boneless feeling in his limbs, Madara manages to grab Naruto's wrist. "No, what we just did was bad enough—"

Her eyes are clouded with lust, but no less determined than usual when she stares him down. "I want to be as close as we can possibly get."

The intensity of her desire dumbfounds Madara. How can someone so perfect for him exist? Why did she have to be so...so...

His train of thought crashes when she forces one of his hands beneath her uniform skirt. He starts to harden again when all he feels is bare skin.

Just this much is fine, right?

Wordlessly, Madara turns her around in his lap and pulls her back against his chest. One hand crawls up her shirt and the other dives beneath her skirt. He releases a ragged breath when the hand under her shirt doesn't encounter a bra. Naruto grips the sleeve of his suit jacket while Madara kneads her breast and circles her clit with his pointer finger. Between the soft breaths on his neck and the wetness on his hand, he is ready to go again, but he doesn't want to rush through it and hurt her.

Her hips twitch towards his hand, so he inserts a finger inside her. Naruto trembles in his lap as he searches for the spot that will push her over the edge, pumping a finger in and out of her all the while. He gradually stretches her until she can fit three fingers comfortably. 

Suddenly, she inhales sharply and her back arcs. She freezes with her legs spread wantonly before her entire body sags against him. Putty in Madara's arms, he turns her back around to face him. Naruto shakily kneels over his lap, so he can free himself from his pants. He hisses at the cool air, but positions himself so she can just lower herself onto him. She moves slowly at first, but ends up impatiently dropping down. Ragged breaths pepper his neck as she adjusts around him.

Encased inside her, Madara feels the best he ever has. Their soulbond magnifies the intensity of the pleasure and he nearly orgasms just from insertion. Based on the shaky sigh from Naruto, she feels much the same. He envies Naruto for having her first time with her soulmate. Obviously, Madara is grateful to be said soulmate and that she never settled for anyone else, but it's frustrating that he did. His prior experience pales in comparison to the effect she instinctively has on him. It's as if he can see color after a lifetime of monochrome and she hasn't even moved yet.

Naruto settles her hands on his shoulders and moves experimentally. She finds a rhythm to her liking and spends a few blissful minutes riding him, but it's not enough for either of them. Madara looks her in the eye, silently asking for permission. Naruto grins as she nods her assent for him to move. He hugs her to him before adjusting them so her back is against the seat cushions of the couch. Then, he begins gently thrusting his hips against hers.

Truly his equal in every way, Naruto demands, "Harder!"

She keens in pleasure when he sets a grueling pace. Madara gives her all of his passion and Naruto greedily accepts it all. He lifts her hips to reach a different angle and plunges inside her. The bruising grip he has on her hips tightens when her back arches once more and she coils around him.

Madara isn't going to last much longer either. His entire life has been leading up to this moment. Between the physical pleasure of consummating their soulbond and the mutual euphoria he can feel radiating off of said soulbond, he is finally content. Unfortunately, the moment is effectively ruined when he has an unpleasant realization.

Belatedly, he remembers that they're doing it raw. In a panic, he tries to pull away but Naruto's legs trap him in place. He might have been able to hold out a bit longer if she didn't suddenly clench around him. Unable to resist her tight heat, Madara stiffens and spills himself inside her. For a moment, he forgets cruel reality once more as pure bliss overtakes him. Resisting the urge to lean forward onto Naruto, Madara rests his weight against the couch as he catches his breath.

Once the euphoric haze clears, Madara stiffens. Gently, he extricates himself from her now loose embrace and wobbles his way to the door. Unaware of the mess they just found themselves in, Naruto follows suit. Readjusting her clothes, Naruto asks, "Where are we going?"

Leaning heavily against a wall with one foot halfway into his shoe, Madara answers, "The convenience store."

"Yesss. The convenience store ramen is almost as good as the stuff you get from the stands."

Madara stops fighting with his shoe to give her an incredulous look. "You need Plan B."

"Plan B?"

What are they teaching her at school? Patiently, he explains, "Birth control."

"Don'tcha want kids?"

Totally unprepared for this conversation, he rushes through several answers, "No—Yes—Not right now!"

Genuinely curious, Naruto asks, "Why not?"

By way of explanation, he states the obvious, "You're still in high school."

"And? I'll be out by the time I'm ready to pop," she says with the same levity one might comment on the weather.

"First of all, don't put yourself or our hypothetical children on the same level as microwave popcorn. Secondly, if you get pregnant, that'll be all the evidence necessary to put me in jail," he explains with no small amount of exasperation.

Naruto had been losing interest in the conversation ever since ramen was off the table, but he has her full attention at the mention of jail time. She has no plans of letting him go anytime soon. Matching his haste, she shoves her foot into one of her shoes and urges him, "We gotta go get some birth control right now!"

Satisfied that they're finally on the same page, Madara opens the door for her.

~xXx~

Despite the panicked dressing and running to the convenience store, Naruto wanders off the second they arrive. A man on a mission, Madara simply makes his way to the birth control section. He reads the directions on the back of every brand and selects the one with the highest chance of preventing pregnancy. With his luck, the remaining 11% chance of pregnancy feels like a risky roll of the dice, but it's their only option.

A tug on Madara's sleeve draws his attention. Naruto, arms laden with what must be a cup ramen from every brand available in the store, wiggles her eyebrows at him and makes a 'how about it' noise. This is a very serious situation, and she's treating it like a minor inconvenience. Madara tries to be mad at her, he really does. He brings a hand to his face to mask his smile and sighs to hide his chuckle. "Fine."

Naruto cheers and nearly drops her armful of items, "Yay! I love you so much, ya know!"

Embarrassed, Madara hurries her to the register, "Let's just hurry up."

Madara doesn't appreciate the incredulous look the cashier directs at him nor the quick glance at Naruto. A glare discourages the teenager from making any comments, but Madara is thankful that Naruto is just as eager to leave as he is.

~xXx~

The second Madara finishes reading the explanation on the back of the morning after pill's box, he feels pressure on his crotch. "Naruto."

She shamelessly makes eye-contact with him while unzipping his pants. "Yeah?"

Madara grabs her wrist. "Do you remember why we had to make an emergency trip to the convenience store?"

"The box said I had seventy-two hours, didn't it?"

Well, at least she listened before disregarding the information entirely. "Yes, but it also said that it's more effective the sooner you take it."

"And I will take it," she straddles his lap, "...Sunday night."

~xXx~

Madara has her take the pill before she leaves Sunday evening, but he makes a note to invest in condoms for next weekend.


	4. A Challenger Approaches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasuke joins the fray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case you weren't aware, Japanese schools have long sinks (like 8 feet long) in the hallways so the students can brush their teeth after lunch and refill their water bottles.

Mother may not be as obvious with her pushing as Naruto’s is, but Sasuke still doesn’t appreciate being forced to spend time with the fool in his own house. They don’t get along at all and he can’t escape from her. She’s loud, stupid, and weird. Nobody in their kindergarten class even likes her.

It’s always a chore to spend time together. They can’t even watch a movie without arguing. Naruto shouts, “I dare ya to say that again!”

This is what he gets for kindly trying to explain why the townspeople hated the Blank so much. She won’t let it go that the Blank became the villain. Sasuke repeats, “A Blank like you wouldn’t get it—”

“I keep tellin ya, I have a soulmark! You’re just too stupid—”

“Where is it, then?”

Naruto pauses for an awkward amount of time before haughtily huffing, “Just cuz you can’t see mine, doesn’t mean I don’t have one, ya know. Haven’tcha ever heard of red wire?”

Sasuke corrects, “You mean a ‘red thread of fate,’ idiot.” 

Back to her belligerent self, Naruto retorts, “You knew what I meant! ‘Sides, I don’t see yours!”

Annoyed that she tried to put them on the same level, Sasuke primly informs, “Mine is on the back of my neck.”

“Prove it,” she demands.

“Why should I?”

Naruto pauses again. She smirks. “Pretty de- _fence-_ ive, ain’tcha? Maybe you’re lyin.”

Sasuke growls before pulling the back of his shirt collar aside and showing her his back. “There! See it?!”

Naruto hums, “Looks like a smudge to me.”

“It’s more than you have!”

“I bet you drew it yourself,” she taunts.

“I bet you made yours up, freak!”

Sasuke isn’t prepared for the first punch, but he is ready for the second and third. Naruto fights like an animal—alternating between punching, biting, and scratching. By the time their mothers storm his room to investigate the noise, Sasuke has a black eye and several bite marks on his arms. Naruto’s nose gushes blood onto her shirt and one of her pigtails is horribly askew after Sasuke pulled on it as hard as he could. She has a decent handful of black strands in her grip, as well. Luckily, the Uzumaki family departs soon after.

Mother and Father are less than pleased with his behavior, but Itachi’s words make him feel the worst. While covering some of Sasuke’s scratch marks with a bandaid, he scolds, “Soulmarks manifest in many different ways, Sasuke. It’s not something to compare or mock someone about.”

He tries to argue, “But she—”

“I’m very disappointed in you,” Itachi says while shaking his head.

Horrified, Sasuke promises, “I’ll apologize!”

The next time he sees Naruto, his terse apology is mistaken for an insult and they get into another fight. The teacher has them sit in opposite corners of the classroom during recess, but Sasuke is comforted by the fact that he kept his promise. It’s her loss if she doesn’t accept it.

~xXx~

Naruto has a knack for effortlessly ruining Sasuke’s day. 

Today was supposed to be special. Itachi set aside an entire day for them to spend together! Lately, he’s been busy with middle school and extracurricular activities. He just doesn’t have the time to spend with Sasuke that he used to. Sasuke is very proud that his brother became the student council president in a landslide victory, but he misses him.

Mother has been hinting that Sasuke is getting a bit old for piggyback rides, so he enjoys the rare treat as they pass by the park. His brow furrows and he lifts his head from Itachi’s shoulder when he sees a lone figure on the swing set. Due to the mud in her hair and on her clothes, Sasuke doesn’t recognize her at first. However, the gaudy orange sweatshirt is a dead giveaway. Naruto sullenly slouches in one of the swings while it lazily oscillates back and forth. Her pathetic appearance compels him to sigh, “Nii-san.”

Without breaking stride, Itachi turns his face towards Sasuke. “Hm?”

How nice it would have been if Itachi caught sight of the idiot when he turned. Now, Sasuke has to come up with an explanation for why they have to stop. He settles on an unenthusiastic suggestion, “Let’s play at the park.”

With a rise of an eyebrow, Itachi gently refuses, “We’re going to be late for dinner as it is. You know how mother gets.”

Sasuke pushes, “I know, but I really want you to push me on the swings.”

“Another time—”

“It has to be right now.”

Curiosity piqued, Itachi stops and looks toward the swings. His eyes widen a fraction before slowly lowering Sasuke to the ground. He slides off his brother’s back and marches toward the swing set. Itachi saw the state Naruto is in, so there’s no turning back now.

They aren’t trying to sneak up on her, but between her own mumbling and the downward tilt of her face, she starts and falls out of the swing when Sasuke calls out, “Hey, Stupid!”

Hastily climbing back onto her perch, Naruto retorts, “Whaddya want you—”

Cutting the fight off before it can gain momentum, Itachi interrupts, “What happened?”

“...I was tryin to catch a frog, ya know,” she says after a long pause. 

Not fooled for a second, Sasuke argues, “Why are you covered in mud, then? Even a klutz like you wouldn’t fall into—”

“Yeah! I fell in! What of it?!”

Itachi tries to diffuse the tension as Naruto and Sasuke trade nasty glares, “Accidents happen. Anyway, you must want to change out of those dirty clothes. How about you come home with us?”

Both second-grader’s jaws drop. Sasuke isn’t sure what he was expecting by approaching this pity case, but certainly not that. He thought they would send her home or something, not invite her over. Sasuke opens his mouth to protest, but he accepts that this is going to happen when Itachi gives a slight shake of the head. 

Drawn in by Itachi’s kind smile, Naruto takes the hand he holds out to her.

  
~xXx~

“Where have you two...been...”

Mother’s scolding trails off when Naruto hesitantly follows them through the door. She always gets angry whenever Sasuke tracks dirt into the house, but she doesn’t even frown in disapproval when some of the dry mud caked onto Naruto’s clothes falls onto her pristine floor. All she does is share a glance with Itachi before quickly ushering Naruto towards their bathroom.

Itachi suggests over the sound of water running, “Why don’t we go play games in the living room?”

Mother never lets them play before dinner. Unsure, Sasuke asks, “We can?”

Holding a finger to his lips, Itachi replies, “It’ll be our secret.”

“Okay!”

~xXx~

Sasuke needs to stop expecting things when it comes to Naruto. He expected that she wouldn’t come home with them, but she did and borrowed his clothes after her bath. He expected that her parents would come to get her before dinner, but she stayed for dinner and continued to intrude on his time with his brother. He was forced to accept what was happening when Mother told _them_ to go to bed. 

Now, she lay in the guest futon in his room. Laying in his bed, purposefully turned away from her, Sasuke warns, “You better not snore.”

Naruto simply answers, “Okay.”

She’s been oddly complaisant ever since Itachi brought her home with them. Weirder still, they haven’t had a single fight in the hours they’ve been forced to spend together. They’re almost...getting along. It’s very suspicious. Sasuke rolls to lean over the side and asks, “What’s the matter with you?”

Looking up to meet his gaze, Naruto answers, “Nothing.”

“You haven’t tried to fight me all day. Something must be wrong.”

“You’re the one who usually starts the fight, ya know,” she replies with much less heat than usual. “‘Sides, you’ve been pretty nice today.”

“I’m always nice,” he argues.

Naruto quietly snorts, “While your mom was washin’ the mud out of my hair, she told me that you mean well, but you usually end up sayin’ the wrong thing, ya know.”

Sasuke indignantly rolls back over and silently fumes. They were talking about him? How could Mother betray him like that? Is it because they’re both girls? He rolls toward Naruto once more to ask what _else_ Mother said about him, when he notices Naruto’s eyes are closed and the blanket covering her rises and falls with each deep breath.

He harrumphs. He’ll just ask her in the morning then.

~xXx~

When Sasuke’s soulmark starts coming into focus during fourth grade, he starts to envy the people that have threads of fate. Then again, the girls in his class would probably find a way to annoy him about that, too. Perhaps, it would be better to be a Blank like Naruto?

Sasuke finds himself thinking these sorts of thoughts every time they have P.E. class at the school pool. Nearly all the girls hover behind him, trying to read the blurry name on the back of his neck. He does his best to ignore them as they argue amongst themselves that it’s their name. Whenever possible, he leans or sits with his back against a wall, but this only makes them more creative.

He decides enough is enough when he hears a camera shutter go off behind him. 

The offender jumps when he whirls to face them. A mousy girl with a mole on her cheek tries to hide the evidence behind her back as her voice wobbles, “H-hi Sasuke-kun, I was just—”

Sasuke sharply interrupts whatever excuse she was working her way toward, “Stop.” She obediently shuts up and he continues, “Even if you were my soulmate, I wouldn’t want someone as desperate as you. I’d rather have **no** soulmate.”

The girl starts to cry, but Sasuke couldn’t care less. He collects his towel and shoes before stalking back to the classroom to change. None of his classmates bother him as he roughly pulls his clothes back on. In the classroom next door, Sasuke can hear the girl blubbering to her friends while they’re supposed to be changing. However, no one bothers him about it, so Sasuke continues about his business.

Not long after the incident, the girls finally give him the breathing room he craves. In fact, every girl in school suddenly refrains from even mentioning the soulmark on his neck. Sasuke learns the reason for this blissful reprieve when he overhears two girls comparing notes on any glimpses of his neck that they may have gotten. “Did you see anything today?”

“No, did you?”

“No...”

“Why don’t we just ask—”

“Shhh! Sasuke-kun will get really mad! He doesn’t even want a soulmate!”

Sasuke digests the information as the two girls pass by the boys’ bathroom. He should probably be irritated with that girl for twisting his words, but he’s more grateful that it got the rest of them to calm down. Besides, how would it benefit him to correct them? The simple answer is that it wouldn’t. He might as well enjoy the peace and quiet, then.

More than a little bit pleased, Sasuke finishes washing his hands and heads back to the classroom. Several girls glance his way as the door slides open, but none of them call out to him like they used to. When the rest of the break in between classes passes without anyone accosting him or crowding around his desk, Sasuke thinks that he could get used to this.

~xXx~

For the first time in his entire academic career, Naruto isn’t sitting next to him. Sasuke no longer has to dread alphabetical seating charts, because she isn’t even in the same class as him. His wish since kindergarten has finally been granted. So, why doesn’t it feel as liberating as he was expecting? 

He must have gotten used to the constant sight of blonde hair blocking up his periphery, that’s all. Whatever strange feeling this is will wear off given a bit of time.

Now that Naruto isn’t devoting most of her energy to agitating Sasuke, she manages to make a few friends. Whenever he catches a glimpse of her in the hallway or around school, she’s always with Kiba, Shikamaru, or Chouji. Naruto has been trying to wriggle her way into their friend group for years, so they must have finally cracked. Sasuke does a double-take when Shino calls out to her with familiarity, though.

How nice for her.

Meanwhile, Sasuke finally has friends of his own. He chooses to let Suigetsu and Jūgo keep him company. They don’t force their presence on him like Naruto used to. Honestly, middle school is shaping up to be rather pleasant. Other than the abrupt end of his three-year respite from constant vexation, anyway.

Girls from other elementary schools—girls that haven’t heard how little patience he has for nonsense—flock to him. One such girl, Karin, is particularly taken with him. She must have forced the location of his soulmark out of one of his old classmates, because her attempts to get his shirt off border on the insane. If he hadn’t chosen that exact moment to use the bathroom inside the locker-room, Karin might have actually gotten away with his uniform shirt.

No matter how often Sasuke tells her to knock it off and leave him alone, she always comes running back. Unlike all of the other fangirls to date, Karin is as bold as she is persistent. Only the most fervent of Sasuke’s admirers remain after she stakes a claim on him. However, this doesn’t give him his breathing room back. Instead, Karin picks up the other girls’ slack and pesters him constantly.

To force Sasuke into addressing her with familiarity, Karin purposefully hides her last name from him. Her last name remains a mystery until he happens to spot Naruto teasing Karin and treating her like family. Usually, Karin is surly and violent with everyone other than Sasuke, but Naruto manages to make her laugh. She just laughs off Karin’s frustrated swats, but Suigetsu has received bruises for minor infractions. 

It makes sense.

Karin moved to Konoha from Uzushio. Sasuke remembers his mother mentioning that Naruto's family visits extended family in Uzushio every summer. Karin isn’t as hyperactive as Naruto nor do they look all that similar, but there is a definite bullheaded family resemblance. Just as Naruto used to call out to him and challenge him to fights, Karin drives off any girl in Sasuke’s immediate vicinity on his behalf. Family or not, it seems that even Naruto is not exempt.

Sasuke is just trying to refill his water bottle at the sink when Naruto happens to be doing the same. They’re not even looking at each other, but an irate Karin storms up to Naruto. Completely disregarding the fact that Sasuke is standing less than five feet away and can hear every word, Karin hisses, “I thought I told you to back off—”

“Oh, hey cuz,” Naruto chirps in reply.

“Don’t you ‘oh, hey cuz’ me! You’re too close to Sasuke. AGAIN.” 

Naruto pauses for an awkward amount of time before completely changing the topic, “Remember when I got stung by a jellyfish—”

Karin chokes and darts a glance in Sasuke’s direction. “NO.”

“—and you tried to p—”

Slapping her hands over Naruto’s mouth, Karin softens her voice to as close to a plea as she is able, “ _All right_ , I get it. If you promise to never bring that up again, I’ll let this slide. Just stay away from Sasuke, ok?”

For some reason, it irritates Sasuke how easily Naruto agrees, “Sure thing, cuz!”

~xXx~

Things take a turn for the worse when some idiot bumps into Naruto during the break before third period. 

Before really considering his actions, Sasuke rushes to the sink in the hall to wash his mouth out. Beside him, Naruto noisily gargles water. They accidentally bump into each other when Naruto leans down to spit out the water and she jumps away from him as if burned. Completely missing Sasuke’s offended scowl, she briskly retreats down the hall and ducks into class 1-A. 

Personally, Sasuke is much less eager to go back to his own classroom. The girls are shrieking up a storm as they bombard the idiot that caused this whole mess with accusations. While Sasuke can recognize that it was an accident—it never would have happened if Naruto didn’t get up in his face—he may have a few choice words with the fool once the girls have finished ripping him to shreds.

Unfortunately, that isn’t the end of it.

Throughout the day, Sasuke relives the moment. He has to consciously stop himself from trying to recall the sensation. What is wrong with him? She tasted like milk and ramen. What kind of combination is that? Did she eat that for breakfast? Disgusting.

He’s still trying to get the unwanted memory out of his mind when he next sees Naruto at swim practice. The other girls must have unleashed hell upon her, but she looks fine. It’s terribly obvious that she’s avoiding him, though. She won’t even look at him. 

Sasuke has half a mind to set her straight on just whose fault The Incident was, but he stops when he notices her hanging around Hinata. Surprisingly, Hinata doesn’t faint once and occasionally stutters out shy replies to Naruto’s constant stream of chatter. The blush on her face is clear as day and only Naruto is too stupid to notice.

After swim practice, he spots them walking home together. Their uniforms have faded stains on them. It’s not uncommon for Naruto to spill things on herself, but Hinata is usually too careful for that. Sasuke’s brow knits as he wonders just what they’ve been up to.

From then on, it’s rare to see Naruto without Hinata. Sasuke generally only sees them childishly swinging their clasped hands as they walk to and from school, but that is more than enough. It’s none of his business if Hinata finally made her move. He just doesn’t care to look at them is all.

One day, he asks Karin on a whim, “What do you know about Hinata?”

Normally, she flips out whenever Sasuke even looks at another girl, so it’s already a bad sign when Karin calmly answers, “You mean Naruto’s new friend? She’s pretty quiet, but she’s all right, I guess.”

Keeping his tone even, Sasuke asks, “Are they just friends, though?”

“Yeah, Hinata clearly has a crush on Naruto. But, Naruto being Naruto, she hasn’t even noticed,” Karin explains as she finishes cleaning her glasses and places them back on her face. Cuddling up to Sasuke’s arm, she lowers her voice, “Anyway, enough about them! How about we go—”

“Hey, Sasuke—”

“STAY OUT OF OUR WAY, SUIGETSU!”

As Suigetsu receives a brutal sucker punch, Sasuke is oddly relieved. Hinata may have closed the gap, but it won’t matter if the idiot doesn’t even notice. 

~xXx~

In the grand scheme of things, it was probably one of his tamer fights with Naruto, but the consequences of it were snowballing out of control. Sasuke took a shower as soon as he got home, but apparently that had not been enough to prevent falling ill after hours with snow down his jacket. His mother suggested that he stay home, but Sasuke was adamant that it wasn’t anything to worry about and went to school the next day. He thought he was holding out fairly well, but the teacher insisted he go to the infirmary before second period began.

Sasuke curses under his breath before slipping into a coughing fit. His lungs and brain pulse in protest, but he refuses to sleep in the infirmary bed. They’re already forcing him to go home like he’s some kind of child, he doesn’t need to reinforce the imagery by having Itachi wake him up from his nap when he arrives to collect him. 

The sound of the door sliding open rouses him from his upright dozing in the corner chair. Hinata nods in greeting before sitting in the only other chair in the room—next to him. Sasuke notices how she slightly pulls the chair away from him, though. 

He isn’t sure whether he’s glad or irritated by it.

They sit in silence as the nurse takes her time doing whatever errand she went out to do. Probably drinking. Sasuke can’t really blame a public school nurse for wanting to drink, but the atmosphere is distinctly uncomfortable and he wishes they had a buffer. Neither of them has anything to say to the other, so they just watch the snow fall outside. 

Sasuke is fighting to stay awake when Itachi finally slides the door of the infirmary aside. The worried look in his brother’s eyes eases Sasuke’s impatience. The nurse leisurely follows in behind him and states the obvious, “Uchiha, you’re free to go.”

Heaving an irritable sigh, Sasuke leans forward to grab his backpack off the ground. Itachi hurries over to intercept him and says, “Let me get that.”

While Itachi turns to thank the nurse and excuse them, Sasuke deals with the unfortunate reality that he has been forced to acknowledge. When Itachi took the bag from him, Sasuke involuntarily swayed a bit and accidentally brushed against Hinata. Their arms made contact for less than a second, but it was a blissful moment free of the aches his cold has inflicted him with. The savage part of his brain demands that he make contact again, but the sensible part is just as dismayed as Hinata looks. She shies away from him as he does his best to vacate the chair next to her as quickly as possible without stumbling. 

Sasuke shuffles out of the infirmary door with Itachi hot on his heels. He wants to reassure his brother that he’s fine. He doesn’t need to lay down on the car ride home nor does he need the entire stock of a vending machine that Itachi brought with him. 

Unfortunately, Sasuke can’t stop thinking about Hinata. How soft her skin was. How great she made him feel. How neither of them wanted this to happen.

~xXx~

A few days must have passed since his Encounter as Itachi is no longer hovering by his bedside. Their mother must have shooed him away and told him to stop neglecting his coursework. Itachi is in his final year of college and it’s a miracle he found the time to pick Sasuke up from school between all of his commitments. 

Sasuke prefers to keep busy as well, but sleeping or thinking is all he has the energy to do. Whether he’s awake or asleep, his mind drifts to places he would rather it didn’t. Unfortunately, the only distraction available to him is the notorious Blank of the Uchiha clan. “Remind me, how long did you stay out in the cold after that girl stuffed snow down your jacket?”

He doesn’t dignify that with an answer and glares at Madara. Completely unaffected, Madara directs a sharp smile at Sasuke as he sets the soup down on his bedside table. Luckily, a barrage of doorbell rings cuts Madara off before he can launch them into a verbal spar in which Sasuke will be at a distinct disadvantage. Sasuke’s lips curve up into a smirk as he forces as much mockery as he can into his pathetic croak, “Better answer that.”

The effect is ruined when he sneezes soon after, but it’s still satisfying when Madara stomps his way out of Sasuke’s room anyway. Judging by the trademark “knocking,” Naruto is here for some reason. Kakashi probably forced her to bring Sasuke’s make-up work. She never stays for long anymore, but an extended commotion downstairs draws Sasuke’s attention. He expected Madara to snatch the delivery out of her hands and shut the door in her face. Instead, he hears shouting and crying.

Sasuke curses the pile of blankets on top of him. Not only do they trap him in place, they muffle whatever is being said. However, it’s far more concerning when it goes eerily silent. Just as Sasuke digs himself out from under the first layer of blankets, he hears frenzied footfalls climb up the stairs and approach his room. 

As usual, Naruto tactlessly throws open the door without knocking. Unlike usual, she doesn’t even bother making a sad attempt to ridicule him. Clearly distracted, Naruto digs a thick folder out of her backpack and tosses it onto his bed before turning to leave. Sasuke forces as much power as he can into his voice as he demands, “Hold it.”

Naruto agitatedly hops from one foot to the other as she whines, “Whaaaat? Come on! I gave you your homework, what else do you want?!”

“I heard crying and shouting downstairs. Explain,” he orders. Naruto is acting strange, but she doesn’t seem traumatized per se. Then again, she might still be in shock from whatever Madara did to her.

“Nothing happened,” she denies far too quickly.

“Naruto.”

“Sasuke.”

“Naruto.”

“Sasuke.”

If she isn’t going to answer him, he’ll have to bore the truth out of her. Sasuke sighs and gestures to the folder atop his blankets, “Fine, tell me what I missed this week.”

Naruto scoffs, “Just cuz I was there doesn’t mean I know what we learned this week either, ya know.”

Just as Sasuke opens his mouth to capitalize on that opening she just gave him, he realizes that she hasn’t paused once during this entire conversation. Ever since they were children, there has always been at least one instance in every conversation they have ever had where Naruto paused for a noticeable amount of time. The comments that followed after were always drier and more advanced than her usual vocabulary allowed. It’s almost as if she’s been cut off from the outside source feeding her answers.

Based on her jittery movements, Naruto is very eager to end this conversation. She runs out of what little patience she has and makes a break for it. Sasuke’s eyes narrow, but he’s too weak to stop her as she backs out of the room and rushes through a farewell, “Ok, cool, seeya! Sorry! Feel better!”

She slams the door to his room shut before her frantic footsteps retreat down the hall and back down the stairs. His suspicion grows when he doesn’t immediately hear the front door slide open and shut. Without her mother here to bar her escape, Naruto has nothing forcing her to stay here. She has nothing to do and no one to talk to other than the other...Blank.

No.

Impossible.

She wouldn’t…

But, what other explanation is there? 

Nearly an hour passes before Sasuke finally hears the front door slide open and shut. Soon after, he hears buzzing followed by Madara’s voice. Sasuke still can’t hear what is being said, but his tone sounds...warm. Madara could be talking to his brother, Izuna. 

Sasuke desperately wants to believe that he is.

Unfortunately, he falls into a fitful sleep before he can confirm the identity of the caller. The next time he wakes up, Itachi looks up from his laptop and greets him, “Good morning. Do you want some more soup? Water, maybe?”

Sasuke wants answers. “Where’s Madara?”

Itachi’s eyebrows raise slightly as he replies, “He went back to Izuna-san’s house last night, why?”

“How long is he staying in town?”

“A few more days, I think. What’s with this sudden interest in him?”

Sasuke doesn’t have any concrete proof for his theory, so he lies, “I want to thank him for taking care of me.”

“That’s very mature of you, Sasuke. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it,” Itachi praises without any inflection. 

Sasuke never could fool him. Hoping to draw attention away from it, he asks, “Nii-san, could you bring me some more soup?”

The thoughtful look on Itachi’s face is replaced by a kind smile once more. Standing from the makeshift desk he constructed next to Sasuke’s bed, he replies, “Sure. I’ll be right back.”

Itachi let him change the topic, but he never forgets. This isn’t the last Sasuke will hear of this. He’d best gather some evidence before Itachi confronts him on it. However, that will require being healthy enough that his family lets him out of the house.

Sasuke burrows deeper into his cocoon of blankets as he contemplates what to do next.


	5. The Retreat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's all fun and games until the shit hits the fan.

Blissful months pass as Naruto grows more impatient. Madara doesn’t like hiding their relationship any more than she does, but dates have been the subject of more than a few arguments. He may have let her wear him down until sex became a natural part of their liaisons, but he refuses to budge on the danger of them being seen together in public. The convenience store near the apartment is one thing, but going to a restaurant or movie theater will invite a whole lot more unwelcome attention.

After a particularly harsh argument, they sit on opposite sides of the room in their apartment. Madara can understand that Naruto wants to go outside and enjoy the summer. The fact that she wants to spend it together is particularly enticing. However, her choice of location....

Still facing away from her but sneaking the occasional glance at her huddled form, he tries to reason with Naruto once more, “The beach is out of the question, but...”

Her head turns toward him slightly as she responds, “But...?”

“Perhaps, we could...go somewhere...over your winter break,” he haltingly suggests. Naruto will be legal by then, so it won’t be as big of an issue if they’re seen together. Of course, all it will take is one fool with a camera to spread the news of Madara’s illicit affair. A scandal will invite a slew of new problems, but no trouble with law enforcement, at least.

Naturally, Naruto is not content with his offer for the future and wants immediate results. “What about now? During the summer? Not months away.”

Madara sighs, “It’s just a few more months until your birthday. Then, we can go wherever you want. Kusa, Testu, Yuki—name the place.”

Suspicious, Naruto asks for confirmation, “ _No complaints_ no matter _where_ I pick?”

Her tone guarantees that this will come back to haunt him, but they have been facing opposite walls for almost two hours without any sign of the other giving in. A compromise needs to be made before the entire weekend is spent in a deadlock. Madara nods and agrees, “Yes.”

Naruto hums, “I guess that’ll work.”

~xXx~

Since Naruto’s birthday occurs in the midst of the school semester, Madara manages to dodge the issue of public appearances until winter break. He didn’t think it was possible for Naruto to become even more insistent, but from October 10th to December 23rd, she is nigh insufferable with her constant pestering to go out. It’s honestly a relief when they finally arrive at the resort. 

Naruto throws open the door to their private villa, carelessly tosses her jacket over the back of a chair, and flops onto their king-size bed. She’s awfully happy despite being “forced to settle” for an onsen after Madara vetoed going to an amusement park or mountain climbing in the dead of winter. He did his best to find a place remote enough that they wouldn’t have to worry about garnering too much attention, but packed with enough amenities that Naruto wouldn’t get bored two days into their week-long stay. If the excited flailing and muffled screaming are anything to go by, Naruto is quite pleased with his selection.

Madara huffs in satisfaction as he crosses the threshold into the villa. The attendant follows in after him and sets their bags down. There isn’t much in Madara’s suitcase, but who knows what Naruto brought. Some questionable lumps in her suitcase might be cause for concern any other time, but the calming atmosphere must be getting to him. Taking a seat in the recliner, he closes his eyes and lets loose a content sigh.

~xXx~

With a final kick of her legs and a roll onto her back, Naruto sits upright. She hops off the bed to explore their home for the next week. Madara really went all out. The spacious villa has a view of the mountains outside, a kitchen, their master suite, living room, and two baths—one inside the bathroom and an open-air one outside!

Madara already bought her a new gaming system and had Ichiraku’s delivered to their apartment on her actual birthday, but he said this was a present for her, too. Like all the others, she can’t wait to share it with him. Returning to the living room, Naruto calls, “Hey, Madara—”

She stops when she notices that he has fallen asleep in the recliner. He has seemed pretty tired lately, so she decides to let him sleep. They haven’t even had dinner yet, so it’s too early to start preparing his present. Playing video games would be too loud. If he woke up while she was out walking, he’d probably freak out. Looks like the only option left is napping.

Madara stirs a bit when she climbs into his lap, but he doesn’t wake. Once she finds a suitable position, the instinctual comfort she feels on contact takes over and she nods off in no time at all. 

~xXx~

They had a surprisingly quiet evening once they woke up from their nap. Naruto climbed into bed soon after inhaling the dinner Madara had brought to them. He was so surprised that he checked her forehead for a fever, but she was completely fine as far as he could tell. Bewildered, Madara joined her and they merely slept beside each other for the first time since Naruto wore him down.

It turns out that she was just saving her energy.

The sound of rustling and frustrated swearing wakes Madara early in the morning. He sits up to get a better look at what she’s fiddling with, but Naruto has her back to him as she crouches in the bathroom. What is she up to now? He calls, “Naruto?”

She freezes. Whatever she was working on is hastily gathered up and thrown deeper into the bathroom before she jumps to her feet. Naruto darts to the foot of the bed, strikes a pose she must have seen in a modeling ad, and shouts, “Happy Birthday!”

Madara takes a moment to study her. With both arms behind her head, the pose draws attention to her bosom. The bikini top is too tight; her chest strains the material. Her butt is probably in a similar situation with the matching bikini bottom. He appreciates the view, but how old is that swimsuit? “Thank you...also, what are you doing?”

“Givin' ya your birthday present!”

“Which is?”

She drops the pose to put her hands on her hips in exasperation. “Me!”

Madara fights back a grin as he asks, “Oh?” 

“Yeah! I wasn’t sure what you would want, so I thought I’d dress up for ya. Costumes are expensive, though. Since I’m not allowed to get a job and I already spent most of my birthday money on games and food, I only had enough money to buy ribbon, ya know. But making a ribbon bikini* or whatever was too hard, so it’s a good thing I brought my old bikini. I figured it would be tight like the ribbon bikini was supposed to be,” Naruto explains with a grimace.

So, that’s what her little project was. “Why a ribbon bikini?”

“Cuz it’s your birthday and Christmas Eve, duh,” Naruto answers and crosses her arms. The motion jostles the bikini top. Utterly unaware that she’s exposed, she taps her foot impatiently.

“Of course, how foolish of me. I thank you from the bottom of my heart,” Madara chuckles and pats the spot next to him. Naruto huffs to keep up appearances but eagerly climbs back into bed. As usual, she wastes no time climbing on top of him. After a few pecks, she impatiently rips the blanket away much to Madara’s amusement. Tugging the bikini bottom out of the way, she sinks down onto him.

The risk is infinitely less amusing. “Naruto, stop—”

Extensive practice has made her quite skilled at riding him and a swivel of her hips cuts his sentence off in a sharp inhale. Madara tries to grab her hips but his grip slackens when she clenches around him. With a positively devious smirk on her face, Naruto informs, “Don’t worry, I took care of it.”

Struggling to stay on point as she continues to move, he asks, “What do you mean...‘took care of it?’ We...need a condom—”

“Nope, we don’t. I got a sponge* in there, ya know!”

“A...sponge?”

Naruto hums, “Yep, I had enough money to buy some after the ribbon. So, we can do it 'raw' as much as we want for twenty-four hours! Well, probably closer to twenty-three now.”

Her ability to multi-task would be awing if she wasn’t using it against him. She releases her grip on his thighs and leans forward. Skimming her nails from his stomach to his chest, she locks her arms around his neck and leans her forehead against his. Softly, she wheedles, “I want you to really enjoy your birthday, so just trust me, ok?”

Madara has never heard of this contraceptive “sponge” nor can he feel anything different inside her. She feels as intoxicating as always, but he wants to trust her. He acquiesces with a shaky sigh, “Fine.”

“Good! Now just lay back and let me handle it!” 

With a blinding smile and another quick peck, she pushes him onto the bed and supports herself on his thighs once more. Fully committed to her task, Naruto barely acknowledges him when he lifts her top over her breasts. Madara can feel himself edging closer, so he pinches her nipples just the way she likes. Naruto mewls and tightens around him. Letting go of his inhibitions, he releases. She slumps forward until her cheek is pressed into his chest and asks, “How was part one?”

“There’s more?”

“‘Course there is! We haven’t even gotten to the main event,” she tiredly exclaims. It sounds like she has a marathon planned. Madara is still mad that they weren’t born in the same year, but he’s grateful that their soulbond somehow allows her to share her wealth of stamina. Or perhaps, his body is instinctively trying it’s best to impregnate her through sheer statistics. Either way, he’s relieved that he can keep up with her demands.

Suddenly, Naruto lifts herself off of him and states, “Next, we’re taking a bath. Outside.”

Madara arches an eyebrow, but follows when she rolls off of him.

~xXx~

Naruto’s eyes bore holes into Madara’s back as he scrubs the grime off of his skin. She rushed through scrubbing herself off, so the next event should commence any moment now. Despite the assumption, a finger trailing down his back startles Madara so badly that he nearly falls off of the stool. He casts an annoyed look at Naruto while she snickers, “Sorry, sorry! I couldn’t help it, ya know. I never get to see your bare back. It’s really not fair since you’ve seen me at every angle. Anyway, this is part two, so hand over the washcloth!”

How can she casually say such things? With a ragged sigh, Madara hands her his washcloth and turns back around. He relaxes as Naruto thoroughly washes his back. Every groove and crevice is paid careful attention, but she fixates on the back of his neck. He gets so lost in the soothing sensations that he nearly falls asleep. 

Naturally, Naruto strikes when he’s in his most vulnerable state. He’s still a bit out of it when her hand creeps under the towel covering his lap, but her firm grasp rouses him in more ways than one. Madara inhales sharply before side-eyeing her, “I already washed there.”

“I bet I can wash it better,” she playfully argues. Momentarily letting go, she pushes his legs apart and kneels in front of him. Madara braces his hands on his knees as she inspects him. He releases a ragged breath when she traces a vein on his shaft with her finger, but his hips jolt when she suddenly takes him into her mouth. Naruto has never done this before, so she doesn’t really know what she’s doing, but her enthusiasm makes up the difference, as always. A lick to the head sends conflicting signals across their bond: pleasure on his end and disgust on hers. Madara snorts as she grimaces around him at the taste. In retaliation, Naruto drags a groan out of him by swallowing around him.

A dull ache reaches Madara through their bond and he puts a shaky hand on her shoulder. He reassures, “If it hurts, stop. I would rather we both feel good.”

Naruto withdraws with a recalcitrant suck, but the dull ache in their bond fades. She pouts until an idea comes to her. Pressing her breasts together around his shaft, she licks and sucks on the head. 

It doesn’t feel as good as her mouth, but it’s enough. Just when Madara is about to cum, she releases him with a wet pop. Hopping to her feet, she grabs his hand and drags him into the bath. His frustration and bewilderment only subside when she explains, “We gotta do it in here!”

After finding a suitable spot, Naruto brazenly spreads her legs beneath the water and beckons him over. Mentally shrugging, Madara enters her embrace. He doesn’t understand the necessity until the stark temperature difference between his upper and lower body combined with the lewd sloshing of water when he thrusts makes for an entirely new experience. Based on Naruto’s grin, that was her intention from the beginning.

~xXx~

After they bathe again, Naruto allows a brief lunch break before the festivities resume. Or so he thinks. Just as Madara reaches for the sake bottle, Naruto intercepts him. She puts on her best posh accent and asks, “Would you like some more to drink, sir?”

Stifling a laugh, Madara says, “You don’t have to—”

“Shut up and lemme pamper you,” she interrupts while tipping the sake bottle toward his cup. 

Madara chuckles and obediently lifts his cup to let her pour him a drink. While he drinks, Naruto sneaks a quick sip from the bottle. A profound grimace and grunt of disgust accompany her aghast statement, “I don’t get how you can drink _that_.”

~xXx~

Naruto signals the end of the intermission by climbing onto the bed. As if her expectant look toward Madara wasn’t enough of an indication, she pointedly pats the spot beside her. He snorts, but complies with her wishes.

Once he’s seated in front of her, Naruto dramatically parts his yukata. She crawls behind him and pulls the collar down to his waist as Madara shrugs his arms out of it. Then, slender fingers comb through his hair and gently scratch his scalp before his mane is gathered into a bun. 

“Let me know if you would like more pressure, sir,” she says in her posh accent. Madara snorts as she begins to rub his shoulders. Perhaps, it’s because contact with her is always a delight to be savored, but her massage is superb. His eyelids droop as she kneads his back. 

A voice full of mirth rouses him from his upright dozing, “Do ya wanna lie down?”

Naruto snickers when he immediately adjusts his position. Once she settles on top of him, the massage continues with the added bonus of increased pressure. A content sigh escapes from him as she works the knots out of his back. His spine tingles and his muscles are more relaxed than they ever have been. She shouldn’t have done this. Just once won’t be enough.

“Okay! Flip over, it’s time for...” Naruto trails off when the only response she gets is a soft snore. She huffs, “Since it’s your birthday, I’ll take it as a compliment that you fell asleep. ‘Cuz I’m kind like that.”

~xXx~

The next day, Madara gets a lot of attention. It’s not necessarily malicious, but it’s concerning that so many people stop to gawk at him. Some even giggle. 

He sees why when he’s about to get into the shower after a day of being dragged around the resort by Naruto. A large hickey on his neck catches his attention in the mirror. It’s too close to the front of his jaw to obscure with a shirt collar or his hair. 

“Naruto,” he hisses and wraps a towel around his waist. He finds her sprawled over the couch in the living room and stalks toward the armrest her cheek is plastered against. She jolts upright and nearly drops her phone when he hisses her name again.

Cradling her phone to her chest, she jabbers, “Woah! What? Whatsa matter?”

Madara points an accusatory finger at the mark she left on his neck and snaps, “ _This_ is the matter.”

She barely spares the mark a cursory glance before her eyes wander lower. He snatches the hand that wanders too close to the hem of his towel and that finally garners her full attention. Naruto looks him in the eye and declares, “It’s your fault for falling asleep before I could give you your happy ending, ya know. ‘Sides, you’re mine and I’m yours, so it’s fine, right?”

“You...”

Naruto whistles appreciatively and follows the flow of blood rising to the surface of his skin with her eyes. She comments, “Is that a full-body blush? I didn’t think that was actually a thing.”

The hand not caught in his grip tosses her phone aside to brazenly toy with the edge of his towel. Without a hint of shame, she coyly suggests, “Wanna take a shower together?”

~xXx~

It’s dark by the time Naruto arrives home the night before the next semester starts. She is infinitely grateful that she did her homework before leaving for the trip with Madara, because toting her suitcase back home from the station has been a trial and a half. The siren call of her bed has been the only thing keeping her from taking a break for the last few blocks. 

As soon as Naruto hefts her suitcase up the stairs and through the front door of her home, her mom calls out, “Welcome home.”

Kushina's voice sounds a little off, but it has been a while since Naruto last saw her. When she turns to face her mom, a sharp smile greets her. Minato’s expression is grim as he sits beside her on the living room couch. 

Naruto smiles and answers, “Hey guys—”

In a dangerously high pitch, Kushina asks, “How was your trip?”

Uh oh. Naruto tentatively replies, “It was fine...why are you angry, though?”

“Well, I ran into Hiashi the other day. He had no idea what I was talking about when I mentioned your week-long trip with Hinata, but we had an interesting conversation about how you haven’t visited his house in months. I find that odd since you spend every weekend there,” Kushina tacitly accuses. 

Naruto gulps.

“I had an even more interesting conversation with the cashier at the drugstore. She said you bought some birth control a few days before leaving for your trip.”

A chill goes up Naruto’s spine. She spares a quick glance at her father, but a stern shake of the head signals that Minato won’t be bailing her out of this one.

“So, we’re very eager to hear where you’ve been for the past week. Why don’t you sit down and tell us _all_ about your trip, ” Kushina invites.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you were curious:
> 
> The "ribbon bikini" Naruto refers to is actually called a "naked ribbon." Here is a link to a reference (excuse the fgo comic): https://i.pinimg.com/564x/a6/30/f2/a630f25c8b7e52aebb38596fe00dbc67.jpg
> 
> The contraceptive sponge is a genuine method of birth control that doesn't require a prescription. Apparently, you can even buy it at the grocery store.
> 
> The more you know ;]


	6. Family Matters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The family gives their two cents and past decisions come back to haunt Madara.

Something is wrong. 

Naruto has been acting out of character ever since they returned from their winter retreat. Not only has she missed a few daily calls, but she never stays on the phone for long. It’s extremely concerning when he’s the first one to arrive at their apartment on Friday.

Unlike usual, Madara has the time to shed his shoes and coat without a pushy Naruto accosting him at the door and “helping.” He starts to panic after he changes out of his suit and watches an entire episode of a show he doesn’t care about without a rambunctious soulmate tugging at his clothes. Just as he picks up his phone to call Naruto, she bursts through the door. Out of breath, she gasps, “Sorry, I’m late!”

“It’s fine,” Madara trails off as she kicks her shoes off and drops her bag on the floor. Her movements seem more frantic than usual as she unzips her jacket and strides toward the couch. Tossing her jacket away, Naruto climbs into his lap and attempts to close the gap between their faces. 

While holding her at bay, he orders, “Hold it.”

She bounces in his lap agitatedly and whines, “Whaaaat? We don’t have a lot of time, ya know!”

Eyes narrowed, he questions, “We don’t have a lot of time until what?”

Her features screw up and she deflects, “You won’t wanna do it if I tell ya now.”

“I’m not feeling very amorous when I know you’re hiding something from me,” he retorts.

Naruto throws her head back and groans, “Fine...my parents found out and they’re expectin’ ya at dinner tonight.”

Madara’s heart rate skyrockets. He hisses, “You didn’t think to tell me?!”

“Excuuuse me for not texting you before I ran here from Hinata’s house,” she sasses. 

He growls, “Naruto, when did they find out?”

“Uhh, we had a really scary family meeting as soon as I got back from our trip.”

“So, they’ve known since _last Sunday_ and you didn’t think it was worth _mentioning_?”

She argues, “I knew you would just get stressed and freak out about it!” 

“Who wouldn’t?! I doubt your parents were happy about it,” he snaps.

Naruto pouts, but admits, “Well...my mom said she was gonna kill ya, but I managed to talk her down!”

“And your father?”

“He fainted, but he always does that,” she casually replies. They have a silent staredown for several minutes. Finally, Madara closes his eyes and heaves a profound sigh. This was going to happen at some point, so there’s no use fighting about it. At the very least, her parents were merciful enough not to get the media involved.

Naruto’s wriggling in his lap brings him out of his thoughts. “So...? Do ya still wanna have a quickie?”

Madara releases her shoulders and nonchalantly leans back into the couch. He replies, “If I recall correctly, you’re the one who wants to.”

She scoots closer and whines, “Madaraaaa.”

“But, you were right,” he waits just long enough for the beginnings of a smile to appear on her face before finishing, “I’m not in the mood anymore.”

Her smile freezes before morphing into a scowl. She gripes, “You tease!”

~xXx~

Despite the calm he felt when he sent Naruto home ahead of him, his anxiety nearly paralyzes him outside the front door of the Uzumaki residence. Madara expected to hear a constant commotion from their house since Naruto’s mother sounds just as boisterous as she is, but it’s eerily silent. His tailored suit feels too tight and the January chill does little to soothe the unbearable heat he feels. He takes a deep breath to calm down. They’re just people. 

The people that gave Naruto life and could very easily cut him off from her entirely.

His hand involuntarily jerks forward from where it was hovering before the doorbell and the sound announces his arrival before he finishes mentally preparing himself. A pounding noise approaches the door before it’s thrown open. To Madara’s great relief, Naruto answers the door with a warm welcome. 

“Come in, come in,” she urges and tugs him inside. She maintains her hold on his arm as he shuts the door behind him. Eyes bore into him as he takes off his shoes and steps into the living room. 

A redheaded woman sitting on one of the couches immediately catches his attention. It’s jarring to have someone who looks so much like Naruto directing a distinctly unfriendly smile at him. The threat is thinly veiled as she stands to welcome him, “Welcome to our home. My name is Uzumaki Kushina. Dinner is almost done, but I would like to get to know you while we wait.”

A blonde man comes in from the kitchen to stand beside Kushina and gives him an equally frosty greeting, “Yes, welcome. Namikaze Minato.”

The couple presents an intimidating united front, but Naruto is equally supportive as she stands beside him. Together, they approach her parents. Madara reaches a hand out and introduces himself, “Uchiha Madara. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Quick as a viper, Kushina snatches Madara’s hand and holds it in a vice-like grip. “Did you say 'Uchiha?!'”

Based on what Naruto told him of her parents, she has her father wrapped around her finger and her mother handles most of the discipline. Thus, he assumed Kushina would be the bigger hurdle to overcome, but apparently he was wrong if the manic edge her smile has taken on is any indication. Madara answers,“Y-yes?”

Her other hand grasps his chin and draws him in for inspection. An unnatural glee fills her eyes as she strains his neck by twisting his face in different directions. After Kushina has seen his face from every angle, she graces him with the beautiful smile she passed onto her daughter and envelopes him in a bear hug. Without releasing him, she shouts, “Welcome to the family, Madara-kun!”

How many years has it been since he’s been called that? Has he _ever_ been called that? It doesn’t matter. He’s so relieved that things are going far better than he expected that he chooses to ignore how hung up Naruto’s mother is on his last name. 

Kushina switches to hugging the arm that Naruto isn’t occupying and pumps a fist. She rejoices, “Ha-ha! I knew Mikoto and I were meant to be family! One way or another!”

Unsurprisingly, Minato must be quite familiar with this behavior, because he remains calm and stands his ground. He reminds his wife, “Weren’t we angry that he has been... _involved_ with our _daughter_?”

“Who cares?! She’s eighteen and he’s her soulmate, right?! She could run away with him and you wouldn’t be able to stop her! Is that what you want?!”

Kushina pauses to breathe and Minato takes the chance to reply, “No, of course not!”

“Besides, he’s good-looking! Don’tcha want beautiful grandchildren,” Kushina excitedly retorts. Her grip tightens on Madara’s arm and her tone is deadly serious when he looks down into her eyes, “I expect at least two. A girl is a must.”

“Understood,” he answers to avoid her warpath and she nods in approval. Madara marvels at how Naruto shares her mother’s face, personality, and speech patterns. It seems that her father only contributed his coloring.

Minato attempts to argue once more, “But what about—”

“Let’s eat! I hope you like the Uzumaki clan signature recipe for sukiyaki, Madara-kun! You’ll be eating a lot of it from now on,” Kushina bulldozes over her husband. 

Swept away by how he managed to win an argument he wasn’t even a part of, Madara chuckles as the Uzumaki women gleefully tug him toward the dining table. “I’m looking forward to it.”

~xXx~

By the time they finish dinner, Naruto’s father is no more pleased than when they sat down, but her mother has shaken every detail she possibly could out of Madara about his life up until now. When Kushina waves him away from helping with clearing the table, Naruto takes the opportunity to drag him away.

She tugs him away from the living room and down the hall. Extremely suspicious, Madara questions, “What are you up to?”

“Ya shouldn’t worry so much, ya know,” Naruto answers before throwing open the third door on the left. They step into what is clearly her bedroom and his eyebrows disappear into his hairline. Dumbfounded by her brashness, Madara lets himself be pushed onto her plush bed. Surprisingly, she takes a step back to peek at him through a finger frame. 

“I always wondered why Spot refused to sit on my bed. Actually, he always kinda looked uncomfortable in my room,” she casually explains as if what they’re doing couldn’t possibly be misconstrued. Madara can sympathize with Spot (himself?), because he feels distinctly out of place in Naruto’s bedroom. It’s not particularly girly or childish, but the overflowing hamper and stray textbooks strewn about lend it an air of immaturity.

Furthermore, her parents’ presence just down the hall does nothing to help his anxiety. Naruto may be confident that Madara has her mother’s approval and her father will cave eventually, but that could quickly change if her parents were to stumble upon them at this moment. 

Naruto sighs and beckons him forward, “All right, all right. We’ll go back to the living room, so you can stop freakin’ out now.”

Ah, his stress must have leaked into their soulbond. All the same, Madara quickly and gratefully takes the opportunity to leave. Naturally, Minato happens to catch them on the way out of his daughter’s bedroom. His eyes are vacant and his tone is brittle as he asks, “Naruto, honey?”

“Yeah?”

“What were you two doing in your room?”

Naruto nonchalantly answers, “I was just showin’ Madara my room since Spot’s been in it, but he hasn’t.”

Minato slouches in relief and asks for confirmation, “So, nothing happened?”

“Nah...I was thinkin’ ‘bout it, but Madara was freakin’ out too much,” she replies far too candidly.

~xXx~

Truthfully, Izuna is elated that they’ll be welcoming a new member into the family in a few months, but if _this_ convenience store doesn’t have the specific flavor and brand of ice-cream that his beloved wife craves, he’s going to scream. Returning home empty-handed would be unwise, so he has ended up on the other side of town after searching every store in the immediate vicinity of his house. He is about to sob in relief when he spots several packets of the treat in question waiting for him in the freezer, but movement in his periphery catches his eye.

Someone with very wild, spiky hair is in the next aisle over. Unable to help himself, Izuna scoops an armful of the frozen treats into his basket before venturing closer to get a better look. He must be seeing things, because an individual that looks identical to his brother is shopping in a Konoha convenience store on a Saturday evening. Is that _humming_ he hears? Stunned, Izuna calls out, “Nii-san?”

The man further down the convenience store aisle freezes at the sound of Izuna’s voice. He doesn’t turn to question him like a stranger would, so he must be Madara. Izuna asks again, “Nii-san, what are you doing here?”

“...I’m here to visit you, of course! You’re always saying that I don’t spend enough time with the family,” Madara responds with a taut smile. His expensive suit has been traded out for loose sweats and Izuna caught him with an arm outstretched toward a fatty instant ramen cup. Other than the stiff set of his back, Madara looks far more comfortable than he has in a long time. 

With no small amount of suspicion, Izuna asks, “Why are you buying food in a convenience store, then?”

Madara reasons, “I can’t intrude upon your hospitality _and_ eat your food.”

“Yet you didn’t call before coming all the way to Konoha,” Izuna retorts. His brother blanches. Madara never could lie to him effectively. “Why are you really here, Nii-san?”

“I’m here to see my soulmate,” Madara admits with a sigh.

“You found them?! Why didn’t you say anything,” Izuna stage whispers. He would think that Madara would announce to the world that he wasn’t a Blank and rub his soulmate in the world’s face. At the very least, every Uchiha would be made aware of it ad nauseam. His brother has earned the right to brag after everything he has been put through, so why isn't he doing just that? Unless...they weren’t good enough for him. Madara confirms the suspicion when he says nothing and directs his gaze elsewhere. 

Immediately on alert, Izuna demands, “Answer me honestly. Are you ashamed of them?”

Madara whips his head back to him and quickly denies, “No! No...”

When he doesn’t explain further, Izuna prods, “But?”

The ensuing silence is worrisome. Normally, Izuna would wait Madara out until he cracked, but the frozen treats in his basket must be starting to melt and his very pregnant wife won’t be pleased if he further delays his return. He states, “I want to meet them.”

“I’m not sure—”

“That wasn’t a request, Nii-san.”

~xXx~

The following Friday, Izuna slides open the front door to find a young woman on his doorstep. She jauntily waves as she greets, “Hello!”

Based on her minuscule height and uniform, he would guess that she’s around Sasuke’s age. Perhaps, she got lost on her way to Sasuke’s house and came to ask for directions. Madara’s soulmate could be here any minute, so he needs to hurry this interaction along. Izuna sighs a greeting, “Hello...”

“I’m Uzumaki Naruto, ya know,” she announces before gasping and jerkily bowing. Clearly, manners are not her strong-suit.

Humoring her, he introduces himself in kind, “Uchiha Izuna.” 

“Nice to meetcha!”

They don’t need to exchange pleasantries if all she wants is directions. Losing patience, Izuna curtly responds, “Likewise...is there something I can do for you?”

Naruto blinks in confusion. She explains, “Madara told me to come here.”

This time, Izuna blinks in confusion. “Nii-san did? What for?”

“He said you wanted to meet me,” she explains with a bright smile.

Utterly flabbergasted, Izuna steps aside. Naruto steps past him and into the house. As she’s toeing her feet into the guest slippers, Madara finds them and exasperatedly admonishes her, “I told you to change out of your uniform before coming.”

“Yeah, well, you also said that being on time was what mattered most, ya know,” she sasses while approaching him with her arms outstretched. Izuna openly gapes as his brother not only allows Naruto to hug him, but he returns the gesture. Their embrace lasts just long enough that he starts to feel like a voyeur. 

Just as Izuna is considering how to get around them to give them some privacy, Madara remembers where they are and who they’re with. He directs an apologetic look at him before gently, but hastily, backing out of Naruto’s embrace. Izuna notices that his brother maintains contact with her as he steers her into the living room, though.

Izuna follows and settles on the tatami on the opposite side of the table from them. There is very little space between them despite ample room to spread out, so it’s clearly a concession for him that they aren’t pressed against each other. Izuna places his folded hands in his lap and starts off with a very eloquent opener. “So...”

In lieu of replying, Madara produces a folded document from his pants pocket and slides it across the table. He explains as Izuna skims the paper, “Those are the test results proving that we’re soulmates.”

For the most part, the numbers and percentages mean nothing to him, but the synchronization rate catches his eye. His forehead wrinkles as he tries to process what he’s reading. He wonders aloud, “One-hundred percent synchronization? Isn’t that abnormally high?”

Madara shrugs and huffs in satisfaction, “Did you expect anything less from me?”

Glad for the break in tension, Izuna snorts, “That’s true. You don’t do anything half-heartedly.”

~xXx~

The tension gradually dissipates as they settle into a comfortable conversation. Initially, Izuna is just relieved to know that Naruto is a legal adult and his brother won’t be facing jail-time, but he takes a liking to her as they talk more. She’s a bit boisterous, but she has an undeniable effect on Madara. It’s been a long time since he has seen his brother so relaxed and light in their hometown. 

Madara is clearly smitten with her and she tenaciously returns the affection. Genuinely happy for them, Izuna is honestly a bit annoyed when the doorbell disrupts the peaceful atmosphere. While Madara and Naruto bicker, Izuna gets to his feet with a sigh. It’s too early for his wife to be returning from her sister’s place, so it can only be an unwelcome guest.

Izuna immediately regrets answering the door.

~xXx~

His brother’s apologetic look is the only warning Madara gets before their parents enter the living room. Rather than a greeting, their mother chides, “You couldn’t even call to tell us you were in town?”

“Now, Kaede. I’m sure Madara has a very good reason he didn’t tell us,” Tajima adds while casting an accusatory look at his eldest son. He momentarily surveys Naruto and looks to Madara in askance. 

Madara wipes all emotion off of his face and slides the long-abandoned test results toward Tajima as he takes the seat adjacent to him. He gestures to Naruto and curtly introduces her, “Mother, Father, this is my soulmate, Uzumaki Naruto.”

Naruto bows her head and greets, “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

The tense atmosphere returns in full force as his parents pick Naruto apart with their eyes. She only relaxes when they direct their attention to the test results. Their eyes meticulously skim the paper before Tajima places it back on the table. He praises them, “That’s quite the synchronization rate.”

When Madara doesn’t answer, Naruto hesitantly replies, “Thank you.”

Kaede chimes in, “Oh, she’s polite, too. Quite an improvement over the last few...companions that have kept you company.”

“Yes, Naruto is quite a delight. We were just talking about—”

Tajima cuts Izuna off, “I guess this means you’ll be finally cleaning up your act, then?”

Voice gruff, Madara questions, “And what ‘act’ is that?”

“What your father means is that you don’t have to drink so much anymore, dear. It’s quite embarrassing for us—”

Affronted, Madara growls, “‘For you?’ I wasn’t aware that you cared enough to notice!”

Tajima’s tone is dangerous as he warns, “Madara.”

“No, no! I would love to hear how ‘embarrassing’ it was for you to have a black smudge like me ruin your reputation! I guess you should have listened when they told you to disown me!”

His mother gasps and brings a hand to her chest while his father directs a withering look at him. Tajima’s tone is frigid as he scolds, “That’s enough, Madara. We did the best we could. If that wasn’t enough for you—”

Naruto jolts when Madara suddenly stands. His tone is flat as he towers menacingly over his father and asks, “Did you ever wonder _why_ I drink?”

Tajima’s exasperated sigh sets him off. Madara clenches and unclenches his fists several times. When that fails to calm him down, he heaves a deep exhale through his nose and storms out of the house. 

The chill takes the edge off of his rage as he stalks to the nearest liquor store. Madara has frequented it many times, so he doesn’t focus on much of anything during the journey. He only notices that he’s being followed when he feels a tug on his arm. Ripping his arm out their grip, Madara whirls to face the annoyance and snarls, “What?!”

Naruto starts, but stands her ground and steadily meets his gaze. “Where are you going?”

“It’s none of your concern,” he hisses.

“You’re my concern, ya know,” she argues.

“I’m going to buy alcohol, so run along home,” he answers while shooing her away.

Naruto glares, but doesn’t move. “I’m goin’ with ya.”

In no mood to have another argument, Madara relents, “Suit yourself.”

~xXx~

It’s more than a bit jarring to see the usually calm and collected Madara giggle deliriously and slog his way through stories about people she doesn’t know. Naruto watches him guzzle down bottle after bottle of alcohol like water. She doesn’t blame him for being upset, but it can’t be good for him to drink an entire crate by himself. It’s almost a relief when he blacks out before he gets to the second crate.

Once she collects all of the bottles into a garbage bag, she drags him over to their bed and heaves him into it. Remembering a stray tip she heard in health class or from her father’s old teacher, Naruto rolls Madara onto his side. 

Satisfied with her work, she climbs into bed beside him. He reeks of alcohol, so she refrains from cuddling up to him like she normally would and settles on her side facing away from him. In no time at all, she drifts off to sleep.

~xXx~

_Madara won’t stop shaking. The uncontrollable jerking of his limbs disrupt the empty bottles surrounding him on the floor. She thought he already got enough of the alcohol out of his system after the third time he vomited, but he’s not waking up._

_She shouts,_ **_Wake up!_ **

_No response._

_She pleads,_ **_Please wake up!_ **

_Her hands phase through him when she tries to shake him. She sobs,_ **_Don’t die! Don’t leave me behind!_ **

Naruto wakes with a start. It’s still dark outside. She brings a hand to her face and it comes away wet. Beside her, Madara remains in a deep sleep. Needing reassurance, she ignores the odor of alcohol and presses against him. 

It’s such a relief when she doesn’t pass through him.

Naruto wraps an arm around his waist and rests her cheek against his back. His consistent breathing soothes her and lulls her back to sleep.

~xXx~

Madara feels like shit. The sun is too bright and his head feels like it has been cleaved open. Pulling the covers over his head does little to block out the sun’s rays. Whatever. His extreme thirst refuses to be ignored anyway. He reluctantly climbs out of bed and stumbles toward the kitchen.

The increased movement unsettles his stomach and he makes a swift detour into the bathroom. Madara leans against the sink cabinets after emptying the contents of his stomach into the toilet. He congratulates himself for only making a small mess. The toilet flush seems unnecessarily loud and he cringes when his headache pounds in protest.

A soft padding noise approaches him and a glass of clear liquid is held out in front of him. Without hesitation, Madara grabs the glass and downs it. He swishes the water in his mouth before leaning over to spit it into the toilet bowl. 

Naruto snorts and takes back the glass. She asks, “Orange juice or miso soup?”

“Both,” Madara demands.

“Sure, sure. But you have to walk back into the living room yourself,” she says before pivoting on her heel and exiting the bathroom.

It takes Madara a long time to crawl his way to the couch in between bouts of nausea. His vision swims when he attempts to pull himself onto it, so he settles for hiding from the sun in its shadow. He spots the glass of orange juice and steaming bowl of miso soup on the low table in front of the couch. Some of the orange juice sloshes out of the glass when he grabs it, but most of it makes the trip to his mouth.

He hears a snort off to the side as he takes numerous small sips. Slowly, he turns toward the other side of the couch. Naruto’s smile is wry as she informs, “You stink, ya know.”

“Is that why you’re sitting so far away,” Madara sarcastically asks.

“Yep. While I have your attention, you should know that I dumped the second crate of alcohol down the sink,” she says blandly. Her eyes dare him to say something.

Madara snarls, “You did _what_?”

“You already drank a whole crate in one night. You don’t need to drink more.”

“ _I_ _’ll_ decide when I’ve had enough to drink.”

Apropos of nothing, she mentions, “I had a really weird dream last night.”

“I don’t give a—”

“You were shaking a lot and dying, but I couldn’t help you. I wanted to save you so badly, but I couldn’t touch you and you couldn’t hear me...or maybe, you were ignoring me,” she pauses for him to respond but continues when he remains silent, “Will you ignore me now, too?”

Madara looks away, but she continues to talk at him, “Last night, you asked your dad if he knew why you drink, but I think I know why. It’s because of me, isn’t it?”

He tries to argue, “No—”

“If not me, then the problem is me not bein’ there for you, right?”

Madara wants to deny it, but he can’t.

“I’m here now, so why are ya still drinking?”

“Last night—”

“Your parents said some awful shit to you, but you just shut me out when I tried to help you. You didn’t even hear me when I called out to you. You didn’t react at all until I tugged on your arm. It’s almost like you’re used to tunin’ me out,” she accuses.

“That dream you had sounds like it was one of Whiskers’ memories,” he sighs. He fills the expectant silence, “I...we didn’t have the best relationship when I left for Ame...and started drinking. I got sick of hearing her complain about my drinking, so I...”

“Ignored Whiskers—ignored _me_ ,” Naruto harshly finishes. Ashamed, Madara can only nod in reply. After an irritated exhale through her nose, she states, “Well, I want you to stop drinking now, too.”

A long silence passes before Naruto bluntly asks, “Is that a ‘no?’”

“I don’t see why—”

Fresh out of sympathy for his hangover, Naruto jumps to her feet and roars, “I waited for you while you were nearly drinking yourself to death on a regular basis! We might have met sooner if _you_ didn’t,” she cuts herself off as the anger fades from her tone and only melancholy is left behind, “Now that we’re finally together, you won’t even let me help you. I love you so much, but I guess...I’m not enough for you.”

Madara grabs her wrist when she tries to walk away from him. “You’re more than enough for me.”

She immediately fires back, “Then why don’t you want to be together for as long as possible?”

“I do! It’s just...alcohol numbs...the pain,” he admits.

“What pain?” When he doesn’t answer, Naruto squats next to him and insists, “Whatever kind of pain it is, I’ll help you, ya know. All you have to do is let me.”

Madara is no match for the sincerity in her eyes and the tight grip she has on his wrist. He really wants to trust her. So, he does. “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you wondering, Kushina was totally planning to kill Madara after family dinner. She wanted to enjoy the old Uzumaki recipe one more time before they locked her up for a horrifyingly gruesome murder. Instead, she got the answer to her Mikoto-based prayers.


End file.
